


Confessing It

by BurnerAccount



Series: Familiar AU [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Demon Parties, Demons, M/M, Mind Palace, Non-Graphic Violence, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6856159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurnerAccount/pseuds/BurnerAccount
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything they've gone through - fighting and outwitting and struggling with each other - Dipper and Bill have an arrangement. They'll work together, kinda. Sometimes.</p><p>Now they just need to <i>explain</i> this to people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. Just... keeping on writing this AU. My apologies.

Bill straightens Dipper’s bowtie, frowning in concentration.

“Are you _done_ already?” asks Dipper, shutting his eyes briefly. He tries to push Bill’s arms away and, as usual, fails to overpower this demonic asshole. “This is obsessive”

“Don’t care. You are _not_ ,” Bill says, sounding more firm than anything else - he’s done with the tie, he tugs at Dipper’s sleeves, shuffles the jacket around - adjusts Dipper’s belt, he flinches at the touch - “Going to embarrass me.”

Bill’s already manhandled Dipper more than a bit, and he’s still doing it. He had to tackle him to get him in the suit in the first place. Among other things. Another set of normal clothes, ruined, ripped apart by this demon.

This is the least intolerable part of the preparations so far, setting everything into place according to Bill’s standards - but it’s still annoying.

Dipper leans his head back, and sighs. “How bad can it-”

Bill interrupts, slapping him painlessly on the cheek. “Quiet. Put up with this.” And the look on his face is so serious - there’s none of Bill’s usual humor, no anger, no mockery -

Dipper shuts up.

“We’re about to walk into something, and try something, pretty much no other mortal is equipped to handle,” Bill continues, looking a little pleased with his human’s sudden compliance, “So you better follow my orders.”

Dipper narrows his eyes, he’s not some kind of servant-

“Not talking about treating you like a servant,” Bill continues, sounding tired, rolling his eye. The demon might not be able to read Dipper’s mind - but they know each other well, he guessed that thought. Bill’s hands fiddle with Dipper’s clothing a little more, frowning. “Wouldn’t come off the way I want it, anyway. But I’m the guy who know’s what’s up with everyone, and the entire point of all of this is showing you don’t need to be coddled. I give you a hint? Take it.”

That makes enough sense that Dipper - even though this is annoying, and… a little terrifying - can’t argue with it. He nods.

“How will I know-”

Bill just gives him a look, hands resting on Dipper’s sides.

“Right,” Dipper says, weakly. He takes a deep breath. “Got it.”

He’s going to have to take very, very subtle cues to know what to do. Bill can’t be heard giving him direct instructions, Dipper’s supposed to hold his own. That’s the whole point. Showing off Dipper’s abilities, showing that he’s one hell of a mortal.

Because they’re going to a party. In the Mindscape.

Technically? They’re actually _crashing_ the party. Bill caught wind of it, and he wasn’t invited, but he doesn’t seem to be worried about that in the slightest.

This is going to be the grand reentrance of Bill Cipher, in front of a ton of demons, after being gone so long. With the human he ‘owns’.

They both look like humans, but Bill’s got no limits in his own realm, and can make it known who he _actually_ is. He even seems to be looking forward to it. He must have a plan, something dramatic, that’ll make him look good. Bill’s going to be fine.

But Dipper actually _is_ human, he’s going to get into trouble. He’s going to have to fight. Bill made it clear that that was inevitable, and - okay, kicking some demon butt if he has to is actually really appealing - thankfully, he’s got Bill’s power behind him. He’s going to need it.

Dipper’s also starting to get a little nervous about pulling off this performance.

He has to make an impact, or Bill’s going to be less than thrilled, and since they’re married, and stuck together for life - This is going to set the whole stage for the rest of the time they’re involved, as far as Bill’s concerned. If Dipper doesn’t manage to make a show of himself… he’s going to have a demon who just sulks all the time, furious with him, because this first impression is literally going to last for eternity.

“Decent enough,” Bill says, grudgingly, after adjusting and readjusting Dipper’s suit for the thousandth time. “Let’s get going.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Dipper fidgets a little. It’s the first time he’s going into the Mindscape to be around demons besides his own, and it’s… unnerving. “I… what if I need more time?”

Bill looks him over. His face is still calm, and serious.

It makes Dipper more worried. It’s so rare to see Bill not smiling. The demon’s more than a little concerned about this, and Dipper’s pretty sure most of that is because Bill’s wondering if his human is going to fuck this up. 

If Dipper fucks this up, the rest of his life might as well be spent in hell, because Bill never, _ever_ forgives things, and he’s a tormentor extraordinaire.

“It’s the best I’m gonna be able to manage with you. And I can’t put this off much longer,” says Bill, after a second. He looks Dipper over, critically. “Now just…” He trails off… then his eternal smile comes back. “Anyone fucks with you,” Bill’s fingers trace down Dipper’s neck, he looks smug - “ _Burn them to ashes._ You’ve got enough power!”

Dipper swallows - he’s still worried, but he does have power, and fire - “I will.” He’ll have to. Thank hell that anything Dipper attacks during this is, genuinely, evil. If it weren’t for that, he’d have never agreed to be Bill’s unexpected plus-one to this party. It makes things easier. Really… Bill’s giving Dipper a challenge, but in some ways, it’s safe.

If something goes haywire, Dipper’ll have the demon for backup. The real problem isn’t fighting someone, or worrying about dying - Bill won’t let that happen, he’s too fond of his human to see him dead - but…

Bill Cipher has never had a mortal before. Apparently, other demons do - there’s like, a club or something. It’s a kind of hobby, for some of them. The mortals are pets. Their minds and wills broken. Physically gorgeous, but empty inside, like statuary.

And - well, Bill never got into that activity, according to the demon it’s stupid. Feeling that way about that ‘hobby’ makes sense, with what Dipper knows. His demon wouldn’t want something without a mind.

But he has a mortal. 

Bill Cipher is arrogant, and self-important, and he’s contracted together with a human.

Apparently very few demons ever get into this kind of relationship. Dipper’s mostly surprised it’s ever happened - but It’s something Bill can’t avoid telling the truth about. If he does, and that gets found out - it’ll look like he’s ashamed, like getting hooked up with Dipper is the accident it is.

So they’re doing this instead. Admitting it. 

Very publicly, at least to other demons. And Bill has lectured Dipper over, and over, and over again about things he should and shouldn’t do.

For this to go right. Dipper has to find some weird, careful balance between kicking some ass, to look like someone that nobody could capture. As well as looking affectionate, devoted to Bill. And be clever, and witty, and attractive - Bill likes Dipper’s mind but… Dipper doesn’t even know what other demons find attractive, what if he does something wrong.

All of that. And probably more. He’s lost track of all the things Bill wants him to do. He guesses he’ll have to wing it.

Bill’s not going to be pleased if his mortal companion doesn’t show himself to be better than every other one. That’s ever existed. Dipper’s not sure he can do it. But Bill dragged him into this anyway, and - Dipper will just have to remember that, because if his demon didn’t think he could be better than every other contracted human? Bill wouldn’t try this tactic.

…It’s the most indirect compliment ever… but it still is one. Dipper almost wants to smile.

Bill _likes_ him.

And there is a faint, vague, almost invisible chance that there’s another thing.

Dipper’s been looking for signs, and over the time they’ve known each other - he’s built up a suspicion. Evidence is there. It’s possible, just maybe, that Bill has been so messed up by their awful relationship - just like Dipper’s been messed up - He shouldn’t be with Bill like this, but he wants it, he had an out, once, but chose to get rid of it, kept his demon…  

In any case, there’s a chance Bill might feel something no demon should ever, _ever_ feel.

One day, Dipper’s going to tell Bill he knows he likes him. Bill will be  _furious_ that Dipper’s figured it out. He can’t even deny it, Dipper’s got proof. Totally winnable argument. But he’s got to save this one. He only gets one shot to use it. Maybe, if Bill’s being a complete jerk at the time…

Dipper will even use  _that_ thing, that Bill might have, just as backup ammunition. Because for a demon? That accusation would be nothing short of horrible slander.

Bill will be _so upset_ by that. It’ll be _great_.

“So! Mindscape,” Bill says suddenly, grinning. He crooks an arm, and plucks Dipper’s hand up, resting it on the inside of his elbow. Dipper reluctantly holds on. “Or we’ll miss the chance. Things go a lot faster up in my place.”

Dipper takes a breath - the greyscale of the Mindscape floods into the world. Bill makes a soft,  pleased sound.

“We’ll knock ‘em dead, kid.” He says, and his smile is sharper than normal, the slightest bit more tense. He darts a glance at Dipper. “And I’m literal about that. Find a chance to kill someone.”

“That’s… not really encouraging,” says Dipper, clamping his hand around Bill’s elbow harder.

“Not meant to be,” Bill says, and pats his hand. “Don’t mess up.” He starts walking.

They stride off into the stranger regions of the Mindscape, places Dipper was told never go even think about going to - Until now.

Dipper tries to make himself look confident and relaxed as they walk. The Mindscape’s full of ideas - random inventions, strange images, floating clocks and heads, weird, imaginary monsters that run past them. The colors around  them shift, there’s so much weird crap floating around, but Dipper pays no attention to it. His mind is racing. 

He’s got no idea what to expect from this party crashing. Bill was as cryptic about what might happen as he always is - hell, maybe he _couldn’t_ go into detail. Demons are really, really weird.

Dipper has to show up in front of a bunch of the most bizarre, malevolent beings in the universe, hanging off the arm of one of them, and pull off looking _really good_.

If only he knew how to do that.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill reaches up, adjusting his hat. Dipper sets his other hand on his demon’s arm as they walk through the Mindscape, almost clinging to his familiar, and frowns.

His demon’s back in his yellow suit, and - Dipper never noticed it before, even when his demon was still wearing the ridiculous outfit he showed up in - but Bill’s hat doesn’t rest quite on top of his head. It floats, just a bit, a fraction of an inch.

“Question,” Dipper says, and Bill turns his head to look at him, with one raised eyebrow. “Why does it do that?”

Bill just kind of stares - then takes a look around, where the shifting colors of the Mindscape background the random ideas floating by.

There’s a more than a ton of them, weird, shifting images, pieces of dreams - Dipper can see a cat, and a huge, terrifying beast with fangs, and a grandfather clock, a series of toy figurines - objects and monsters keep drifting around, even as the background changes its tone and background. He’s never been this deep in the Mindscape before, and it’s incredibly strange to be here.

“Why does _what_ do _what_?” asks Bill, frowning in confusion. “Kid, if you’re trying to process  everything that’s going on, don’t even try. You’re not equipped to handle,” He uses his free arm to wave over the constantly shifting scenery. “All of this. And let’s face it, it’s not like most dreams make sense to you mortals, even when you have ‘em.”

Dipper… lets the topic drop, and squeezes Bill’s arm. “Nevermind.” He keeps walking beside his demon. “It’s not important.”

The hat might be weird. But he knows what Bill’s true form is like, it has one. It’s… a body part? Maybe? That might be why it’s doing that, here. Or did it do it in reality, too? Dipper didn’t look, but - it’s not worth getting into a discussion about, in any case.

They keep walking, and Dipper’s pretty sure Bill’s taking his time to get to… wherever they’re going to. He’s smiling, and he rests his other hand on Dipper’s, where it clutches his elbow. “So! For the first bit, you’ve gotta-”

“Keep my trap shut,” Dipper says, dryly. They’ve been over this.

“Keep your trap shut.” agrees Bill, nodding, and smiling wider. “Until it’s time for you to mingle. I’ve got this.”

Dipper shrugs, and takes a slow breath- and Dipper’s fairly sure that demons fight for fun amongst themselves. Bill is hard to predict at the best of times. And he’s so damned full of himself, he thinks he’s the best. This is going to be-

Bill stops walking abruptly, and Dipper jolts to a halt next to him.

Beside him, Bill’s staring. Silently angry.

He’s noticed the doubt, and he never likes it when someone doubts him.

“ _Dipper. Pines_.” Bill says, slowly, and like always when Bill doesn’t say a nickname -

Dipper shudders.

Heaving a sigh, Bill takes off his hat, and tips it at him, then places it back. “You. Are too damned paranoid. And you’re going to freak out at this rate.” Squirming in place, Dipper - wants to argue, but can’t at this point. “And that’s not an option if we wanna do this. Here’s what’s up.”

“I,” Bill places his free hand on his chest, and continues, “ _Know what I’m doing_. Get it already. You panicking at any point would screw up how you look,” He’s looking incredibly displeased - Dipper squirms. “I’ve been to more of these shindigs than you’ve lived minutes. Nothing about this I can’t handle, so stick to what I told ya.”

That makes sense as well, Bill hates failure. He wouldn’t set Dipper up for it. It’d reflect badly on him.

The demon turns slightly towards him, cups Dipper’s face with his hand. “So I know it’s hard! And… sometimes the wrong call! And you hate doing it!” He grins sharply, and places a kiss on Dipper’s cheek.  “But for this? _Trust me_.”

Dipper closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

Fine. For this. Only because Bill knows a lot more about things here, really, Dipper doesn’t have a choice. It’s not like he knows enough about demons to really protest. He’ll just…

It hurts to think it-

Have to trust Bill. And not try to get in his way, at all, whatever he decides to do.

How horrible.

“Okay,” He says, finally, and Bill straightens up with a smile.

“Great! ‘cause we’re already here.”

“What?” asks Dipper. He looks up.

Bill must have been delaying things, getting here, because the moment he got what he wanted from his human, arranged himself to his own standards, the place - or, ‘place’, or - whatever this is this, showed up.

There’s a huge, black metal door with two massive, hulking rocky things standing guard beside it. The two stone creatures both notice, and glare at them. This is not good.

Dipper stumbles to follow his demon as Bill starts sauntering forward, and keeps grasping his familiar’s arm. Now Bill’s leading him, confident, beaming, straight towards that couple of suddenly frowning - is that frowning? Hard to tell on those craggy faces - demons, and they’re both a lot tinier than those things. Those look pretty powerful - one of them pounds a fist into their other hand, seeing Dipper and Bill approach.

Dipper grips his demon’s arm so hard Bill makes an annoyed sound, and shakes it a little.

Trust Bill. He… knows what he’s doing. Dipper already agreed to do it, but- This is going to be so bad.

_How does he keep getting into these awful situations._

They walk to the door, and these two huge things - almost three stories tall, glaring at them - one of them steps closer, hand still fisted against its other palm.

“What’s up, guys? Been a while!” says Bill, cheerfully, with a little wave. “We’re just gonna join in here.”

The two rocky creatures glance at each other - the aggressive one of them hunches forward, towering over the both of them. When it speaks, its voice is literally gravelly.

“Nobody uninvited is-”

“Wrong answer,” Bill interrupts immediately, looking bored, and snaps his fingers. “See ya!”

There’s no real ground in the Mindscape, they’ve been walking over thin air - though, it’s not air, really, it’s something… weird, and the instant Bill makes his move, both of the guards plummet, down, into nothingness. Or a different plain of thought. Or something. Dipper hears them yell as they fall, grey and cracked rock arms flailing, bodies tumbling, until they disappear.

Dipper stares. That was fast. And-

He starts, Bill’s pulling him forward again, towards the door, laughing quietly to himself. “Aw, man, I have missed this. This is gonna be fun.”

Bill lifts a leg - winks at Dipper - and kicks the door in.

Not open. _In_.

The whole huge thing falls into the massive room ‘inside’, and Dipper’s pretty sure he hears something - someone? - squish, in a crunchy, moist sound, beneath it. There’s ground here, a kind of floor, and walls.

Dipper looks out over a sea of shocked-looking demons as the last vibrations of that massive thud of metal fades away.

There’s got to be at least several hundred demons - seated around tables, mostly, with glasses of drinks. Mingling in a cluster around the middle of the room. A few much, much larger creatures lounging in similarly large seats near the walls. There’s a bar over to one side of the room, complete with an apron-wearing bartender. Though… the bartender is covered in thick fur and has four arms, and has paused wiping out a glass to stare like the rest of them.

This would almost look like some kind of regular, fancy human party, except for… a few details.

One, there’s a huge, mottled chair made of something grey and uneven on the far end of the room, on a dais, with a massive, writhing bundle of tentacles and beaks sort of… not sitting, but wriggling in it, and as for the people here -

Yeah. They’re really weird.

Dipper’s only mostly sure these things are stunned because every single one of them has turned to look at them standing in the doorway. One of them has dropped their drink and is kicking at the broken glass, scooting their chair back - Most of them don’t even have regular faces, and a bunch of them are… He glances at Bill - geometrical. Like his own demon.

Who is incredibly, unbelievably smug. More than Dipper’s ever seen.

Bill darts a look at Dipper, waggles his eyebrows, and rests his hand on Dipper’s, where he’s still clinging onto the demon’s arm. Bill is the absolute center of attention now, of a huge group of his own kind, and he’s loving it.

Narcissistic jerk.

Dipper keeps sticking with his demon as he strides forward, and their shoes clack on the surface of the metal door as they walk in further. The crowd parts, just a bit around them, and the whole time Bill winks, and tips his hat, saluting a few people he apparently recognizes -

Some hulking thing shuffles towards them, snorting a little. Maybe it’s smiling, these weird things are hard to read, but it’s got fangs, and it’s scaly. “Looks like we got a couple snacks here-” Right, Bill looks human, even though he…

Bill points a finger at it without even looking - there’s a blast of blue energy - and the body falls.

Dipper picks his feet up higher as they keep walking so his shoes don’t get soaked in the suddenly growing puddle of gore.

This is just getting more and more violent with each moment, he expected a little but, uh. He guesses he’s with Bill, so. Maybe not so unexpected.

Everyone scoots back a bit more, giving them space. All these horrible creatures, parting around them in a wave.

Bill and him finally end up in the middle of the room, and Dipper is keeping calm. So he’s surrounded by horrible monsters. And holding onto a horrible monster.

Dipper is not going to freak out.

Because Bill was right, that’s… pretty much the worst thing he could do. Showing weakness. He’s… definitely not freaking out at all, he keeps his face calm. Good thing Bill doesn’t care much about pain, because Dipper’s fingers hurt with how hard he’s holding on to Bill’s arm.

“Who decided they could have fun without me? You know I love a good party!” asks Bill, grinning. He waves at the crowd,  turning around a little. “Figured I’d join in! How’s it been, guys?”

There’s a long pause, then -

Several demons gasp. A couple of glasses shatter on the ground as they’re dropped, and one pink, horned demon’s mouth gapes open. She’s the one to ask.

“ _Bill_?” There’s a long sursurrus of noise around them as the demons - recoil, surprisingly, and continue to stare. “Is… that _you_?”

“Got it in one!” Bill says, beaming. He nods around to the crowd, tips his hat again. “Good to be back!” And he starts laughing, hard.

The room starts filling with murmurs - Dipper hears a few clips through the general chatter -

‘Bill’s back? Where’s he-?” and ‘odd shape there-’ and ‘got some kind of… thing with-?’ and -

Bill ignores all of the muttering around him, and, calmly, pries Dipper’s hands off his arm, takes off his suit jacket. He folds it up, and hands it to Dipper. “Hold this, sapling, and stay here.”

Dipper darts his eyes around, Bill’s moving forward and now the crowd actively avoids him, and this traitor is abandoning Dipper to just… stay in the middle of the room. Surrounded by monsters.

Dipper’s trusting Bill for once, he’s got to remember that. He is not supposed to freak out. He won’t. He can keep centered. He has… no idea what’s going on, but he keeps his face calm, and drapes his demon’s folded jacket over one forearm, watching.

“Hey there,” Bill chuckles, and his hands light up with flame as he takes the steps up the dais, grinning at the lovecraftian, squirming thing in the - shit, that’s a throne, isn’t it? “Someone’s been sitting in my seat.”

Dipper has a demon. He has a smug, total dick of a demon, and now it’s challenging something-

It’s very, very weird, but that mass of tentacles and gaping beaks and mouths on the huge chair suddenly - looks like it’s making a break for it. It trundles off the thing in a hurry, toppling over a few tables, scattering smaller creatures before it -

He watches it get thrown into the back wall, with one idle gesture from Bill- It’s so much more huge than Bill, it’s something horrific enough to make any human scream in terror, big enough to wreck any building, but it slams into a few walls, gets lit on fire a few more places. A few tentacles fly off, and it makes Dipper’s familiar laugh.

The mouth-ridden tentacle thing charges forward before it gets cut off by a sudden circle of flame surrounding it, and it gives a horrific, vibrating squeal in sudden, smoking pain.

“So!” Bill says, turning around to face the crowd. “Time for a little floor show!” He sounds intensely amused, happy that the massive thing is…

It’s helpless, isn’t it?

Bill’s toying with it. He’s playing around, and if Dipper had ever seen anything like that thing before he would’ve thought it was unstoppable-

Didn’t Bill once say he was the master of the mind? And….this place is the realm of the mind -  Dipper can’t even feel the edges of the energy he shares with his familiar, it’s too vast.

That’s a freaking throne, and apparently it’s Bill’s place to sit.

He didn’t have to worry about Bill getting in over his head by picking a fight with something too strong. There isn’t anything over Bill’s head, besides his weird hat.

This isn’t about making Bill popular. Or advancing Bill’s position in the demonic ranks using a human, somehow. Dipper’s not here to make Bill look better, he’s…

Bill Cipher… might be the single most powerful demon of his type.

Who just sauntered in, unexpected, with a human, who he’s just ditched, after - the jacket’s just to mark Dipper, isn’t it. Show that there’s a mortal that’s Bill’s. Who’s never had a mortal before, and who’s very, very important.

Dipper turns his head sharply to both sides. There’s a crowd gathering around him. Some demons have crowded up to watch Bill…. ‘playing’, but the vast majority have started to look at _him_. And they’re starting to talk, and lean in closer while Bill’s busy with something else.

Time to mingle. Maybe?

Closing his eyes, Dipper swallows. He could easily die here. If Bill overestimated him or more likely, got overconfident. Where are the cues? The hints? Damn it, Dipper’s going to have to wing things, because Bill’s still the jerk he _always_ is, and he _never_  tells Dipper enough about what’s going on, never makes anything clear.

And later, if Dipper survives?

He is _getting back_ at his demon for dragging him into this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Dipper, how do you get into awful situations? It's almost like someone has it out for you.


	3. Chapter 3

This isn't what Dipper expected.

This is horrible.

With Bill's place in the demonic ranks, Dipper's in a completely different position to deal with things, and he already doesn't know a lot about demons. Most of the things he'd been thinking of, figuring out how to handle this? Have to be completely thrown out. Circumstances are _way_ different than he'd prepared for. 

He’s facing forward, looking like he’s watching Bill play around with his new toy - but truly, he’s watching everything he can, out of the corners of his eyes. There’s quiet muttering around him from all sides. Too many demons to keep track of by himself, all of them deadly, and -

Dipper’s husband is an absolute asshole, who didn’t tell him how he was supposed to handle this, alone.

Mostly, though, he's upset... by the fact that he _can't_ be upset.

He can't blame Bill, not without looking like an oblivious moron, the demon made it _really clear_. Bill's already told him, multiple times, almost constantly, how amazing he is. Dipper's heard him go on and _on_ about being the 'head honcho' and 'an all powerful being of infinite energy', and 'totally in charge of things'. If he confronted Bill about this, he'd just get stared at. _Dipper's_ the one who didn't believe him, and maybe he should've even known better.

Dipper keeps calm. He tosses Bill’s suit jacket over one of his shoulders - he wants both hands free. Just in case.

Bill Cipher’s obscenely powerful. He’s completely insane. He’s the ruler of this whole freaking realm, lord of so many demons - all backstabbing, power-hungry, manipulative dickwads, and Dipper is Cipher’s, whether he likes it or not. And he has to handle whatever trouble goes on, by himself, or Bill’s going to be pissed.

Letting his arms drop to his sides, he pretends to watch Bill ‘playing’, and listens. If Bill’s not going to give him any hints, he needs to know what’s going on _somehow_.

There’s a lot of chatter, and even more attention, but nobody’s attacked him yet or spoken to him. Dipper tries to parse through what these creatures are murmuring about.

“Bill took off and brought _this_ back?” Whispers someone, just behind Dipper and off to his left. Vaguely feminine, slightly hissing in its tone - “What _is_ it?”

There’s some chatter from that quiet conversation, Dipper concentrates on it.

There are a bunch of voices, trying to be quiet and failing, miserably. Bill’s loud, Dipper guesses all demons are, to some extent, but it lets him catch a few phrases as he pretends to be interested in his demon. It’s not difficult. There’s… a lot of yellowish ichor smoking and splattering across the dais, and it’s easy to look at this gruesome display like he’s totally focused on his demon.

“-gone for that long, and shows up with… this? What-”

“-major plan he had going, likely.”

“What’s with those bodies?”

And there’s part of the problem, brought to light. Dipper darts a careful glance around himself.

Yeah, he and his demon are definitely the most human looking things here. Humans are victims, as far as demons are concerned. It’s only a matter of time until someone attacks. Dipper strides closer towards Bill’s performance, and keeps his face still and confident. Nobody touches him, or gets too close, but they don’t part before him like they did with Bill.

He’s still being judged.

Bill’s claim on him gives him a lot of leeway, but it’s no guarantee of safety, not by a long shot. Dipper stops walking at the edge of the crowd watching Bill, joining in. Maybe looking like another spectator will help?

Dipper has no idea what he’s supposed to do here, and he hates his stupid demonic husband, so very, very much.

He gives an insincere smile to a couple of demons standing to his right. One of them, maybe female, like some kind of spider-centaur with five eyes and wicked fangs - the other indeterminate, octagonal, and multicolored. He thinks they smile back.

Dipper’s still listening to the voices around him, and he tenses - tries to relax - breathes in, slow, and ignores the way he wants to twitch in nervousness. Bill’s always insulting everyone, including other demons - but on this, he was right, just like he always is.

These creatures are more than happy to not-so-quietly talk about this new thing among them. They’re shit at being subtle. As long as Dipper looks like he’s distracted, they think he doesn’t care, or that he won’t overhear-

“- _Some_ kinda young new guy, recently spawned-”

“Maybe an apprentice-”

“Ha! Pfft, Bill? With a-”

There’s a wet, thudding smack, and Dipper hears a growl, and quiet, chuckling laughter, a scream - some shouting - then some of the attention is drawn away from Dipper, as two demons apparently wrestle, or… argue, or… knowing what Dipper knows about this kind of being, start to flirt-

Dipper keeps calm. Though it’s hard to not wince, with every meaty blow of flesh against flesh, or the sudden sharp screams - he can’t react, that’d be bad, but also, he’s somewhat… astonished.

There’s a quiet giggle. “Oh. Oh I think it’s clear what’s happening here,” Footsteps circle around whatever feminine demon said that. “Bill went body shopping! It's a _puppet_!”

There’s a sudden, wild debate behind him, about whether or not that’s what happened - it seems to be accepted by most, wondering who Dipper could be - he isn’t a demon, but they think he _might_ be, and what's a puppet? - and muttering about what kind he is, what human he could be possessing.

Dipper thinks about it, keeping calm, breathing in a careful, regular rhythm, standing in place.

Looking human. Being a human. Even _smelling_ human - Bill told him that’d reek out of him - Maybe part of it's covered up by hanging around Bill so long, but... existing, as a human, it should be obvious - But the demons around him? Can’t comprehend the idea that one could be here, especially not one who still has a mind.

They honestly seem to think that Dipper’s not paying attention. That he can’t, or won’t, hear them. That it’s impossible that Bill has a free-willed mortal, that Dipper could only be some other demon, or something Bill’s brought along as a surprise party favor. Even now, they’re arguing among each other, trying to skew things to their own advantage -

They have all of the demonic arrogance Dipper’s used to dealing with, without enough inquisitiveness to consider other options. Looking for only what they already know. They’re not considering that this might be different, stuck in old patterns of thinking. Dipper knows he’s shit at acting, though he’s pretending to watch Bill - but these guys are muttering among themselves like Dipper can’t hear them.

Bill would’ve caught on to Dipper’s misdirected attention in moments, he’s got _great_ intuition. Bill _loves_ weird, _he’d_ wonder if this sudden changeup in another demon’s behavior could be something new. He loves novelty, he wants new things _all the time_. Even though Bill’s not perfect - his intent has been obvious whenever Dipper’s really sought it out - everyone else is _worse_.

No wonder Bill thinks so many other beings are dumb as hell, if this is what he’s dealt with for millennia.

Ford once told Dipper that knowledge was more important than power. Bill’s authority has less to do with Bill’s immense power - immeasurable as it is - than the fact that he _knows_ so much. 

Bill had said he was the best of all mind demons, but Dipper’s starting to think that wasn’t just his familiar’s typical arrogance. These demons are…. 

Kind of stupid.

Dipper knows, through experience, through trials, and through many, many conversations and arguments - that Bill can understand other people’s thoughts, not just look at them. Know their feelings. Extrapolate. He can _use_ _that._  It's not empathy, it's only something adjacent to it. Bill's still straight-up demon, he _can't_ have that to any real extent. But if he did have _something_ like it...

That’d be a singularly  _massive_ advantage. Giving him insight into how humans and other demons think, more than any other demon could understand.

He'd never be weak from it either, since Bill's temperamental as hell. He's able to crush anything inconvenient, with all that power. Bill wouldn't have the _chance_ to get  _attached_ to anyone, he'd get too annoyed and murder them. 

Dipper shuffles in place uncomfortably.

Meanwhile, Bill’s flicking little flames at his current target, massive and tentacled. Smiling, relaxing back in that weird, mottled grey throne, completely unconcerned. The throne’s changed shape, too. It fits Bill’s new human size. He looks comfortable, elbow leaning on one arm of it as he cackles with pleasure.

He can deal with Bill freaking Cipher, and almost be his match in wits - between that and their shared power - If Dipper has to be stuck with a demon, tied to his life, contracted with him, married to him, close, and partnered and - fine, okay, they’re lovers - Dipper hates to admit it. But watching his demon like this, so in control, in absolute command, knowing that Bill is _his_ - And he likes Dipper. He trusts Dipper, he thought Dipper could _handle_ this, and be the best, because Bill’s arrogant as hell and wouldn’t settle for anything less. Though Dipper knows that isn’t true- It still sends a little surge of pride through him. Bill Cipher thinks that _he’s_ the best human.

There’s vast, immeasurable power, between them. And if Dipper gets into trouble, he knows Bill would have his back. Mercilessly mock him for decades to come, sure, for needing the help, but he’d still be there.

Dipper can’t help but grin, though he tries to force it off his face.

This isn’t sentimental. It’s just - if there _had_ to be a demon his life was tied to - and best case scenario this never would have happened -

Bill’s the best he could have ended up with.

Still. He trusted that Dipper would know what to do, and now? Dipper does. Though he's kept himself looking composed... he was tense. He feels himself relax.

This is going to suck, and be violent, and more than a little awkward. But he's pretty sure he can pull it off. He’s got enough power from his demon to look like a good catch. A strong as hell practitioner. And if he can be witty, and fun, as well as attractive -

The standards for this are both higher and lower than Dipper thought. Making friends or allies isn’t the focus. Dipper doesn’t have to impress the other demons, beyond surviving them.

The _true_ goal is for Dipper to look like someone _Bill_ would want, despite the fact that Bill’s never wanted a human before.

For Dipper to do this, keep his demon happy… all he has to do is not die, be clever, and be something appealing. With their bond, he’s got power, he’s got wits of his own - he's got to find a way to show those off - and make the other demons understand why Bill would want to marry him. Why he's - it's a weird thing to think, but it's probably how Bill sees it -  _worthy_ of it.

It’s simple. Not easy, in the slightest - but not complicated, either. Dipper can always set something on fire, Bill won’t be upset by that. He might even be _happy_ about it, if it’s in the right circumstance.

To survive this party. To satisfy Bill enough, so he won’t sulk forever. Dipper has to ask himself one question, and go forward with it. He hopes knows his demon well enough to pull it off, believably. 

If there’s anything Bill is capable of truly liking, in any dimension, it’s _himself_.

Dipper takes a deep breath, and puts a smile on his face. That's the first answer to the question.

What would _Bill_ do?


	4. Chapter 4

Dipper keeps smiling.

He smiles as he walks over to one of the nearby tables, pushing through the crowd. He smiles as he - hesitates - kicks over a chair with someone already sitting in it, and smiles as he sets it upright again, taking the place of the groaning, spindly, formerly seated demon.

He smiles as he kicks his legs up on the table, leaning back, and watching Bill.

All of that, because Bill never stops smiling. The only way to read him is to check the shape and degree of his grin. It’s his default. Bill always looks cheerful - so Dipper has to, if he wants to be like Bill.

Bill’s an arrogant, confident, total jackass. According to him, everyone is dumber than him, and weaker than him, and barely worth considering. If he wants something, that makes it his, so he just takes it. His mind is either full of capital letters or exclamation points, he’s always enthusiastic about something.

Acting like this is… Dipper is uncomfortable.

He doesn’t have the power Bill does. He’s only sharing it. He’s not even a tenth of a percent as old as Bill is, in years, he’s still learning things Bill considers so basic that it’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to explain them - he doesn’t _think_ to explain them. Dipper may be able to channel Bill’s energy, but channeling this much arrogance makes his stomach churn. Because of how huge a lie it is.

The flames are already dying down as Dipper folds his arms behind his head, and grins.

His face aches even after this one minute. He wonders how his demon keeps this up all the time. Maybe he _likes_ the pain.

Dipper hates this party. He hates his suit. Wherever Bill got it it’s obviously flattering - he tugs at the back of his pants - some of Bill’s favorite parts of him. It smells weird here, and he’s surrounded by monsters. First and foremost, above everything, more than all the creatures around him, and this terrible party?

He hates Bill, for not being clear about _anything_.

What’s the next step?

There’s no doubt in any universe that Bill’s arrogant, but he _actually wasn’t_ exaggerating this time. Dipper feels kind of stupid for not believing him, but his demon lies about everything! The conclusion was totally rational.

It was absurd, he thought. If Bill was really, _truly_ powerful, Dipper wouldn’t have been able to sort of, temporarily, bind him, or... very, very slightly, and Bill will never admit it - get him to do things for him.

The idea that somehow, in some way, he managed to land - Dipper blinks, shakes his head a little - no, not _land_ , _capture_ \- Something genuinely powerful was... insane.

But _Bill’s_ insane, so. From what little Dipper knows - it almost makes sense. Because it _doesn’t_ make sense.

A few other demons around this table are giving him a weird look. Dipper keeps smiling. The demon he toppled out of the chair, meanwhile, stands up - its unnatural, torso-long fingers reach for him, its face comes closer -

Dipper stands up quickly, lets fire flare over himself, because if he has to defend himself -

The demon jerks away, recoiling like it’s been shot. Its fingers flail against its gaping face - there’s a quick, sharp whine.

It - amazingly - books it, instantly. It turns and _runs_ , right through the crowd, shoving some shapes away to make a path - then over the fallen door and _out._

Dipper smiles, because he’s not sure what else to do. It didn’t. He hesitates a moment. He sets his hands on the table, lowers himself down, back into his seat.

Aren’t demons supposed to want to _attack_ a mortal? Try to capture him, or destroy him? They’re… They’re not supposed be _nervous_. Dipper should barely be a threat.

The demons at Dipper’s table lean back. They shrink into themselves. A hexagon ducks mostly under the table, leaving only two of its eyes exposed. Two other beings close their mouths, exposing as little of their fangs as possible. A couple others shuffle their seats away with loud clatters.

This is something way more than nervous.

Dipper settles back. Still smiling. This _can’t_ be right. He hasn’t blown up anything, so-

Crap.

Now Dipper’s getting nervous.

 _That’s_ the problem. Because that’s what Bill had to do, to get people to back off, and Dipper’s done basically nothing, and he’s getting _this_ reaction. Dipper knows these beings don’t function on logic, Bill barely approaches it some days and he’s smart.

Dipper...has to think about things differently. Think _weird_.

No, that doesn’t help. Dipper shifts in his seat. It’s a gut feeling, and he hates relying on something so dumb - but no plan survives contact with Bill without disintegrating. Dipper’s learned to trust his instincts.

No matter how he twists it, something has gone wrong, already.

Maybe it won’t be a big deal.

Dipper settles back, and watches his demon. There should be something he can learn. If he keeps all of his attention on Bill, then _eventually_ he’ll figure it out. Damn, that was probably one of Bill’s reasons, for not telling Dipper everything. Getting Dipper’s attention, all to himself.

Narcissistic jerk.

He watches as Bill half-bows in his seat, looking lazily pleased. Whatever’s left of the creature that tried to usurp Bill’s seat is a mess of yellow-grey ichor and ash on the dais. There are parts, splayed all over. Dipper can see a few of its severed tentacles littered around the room, a couple drooping over - and collapsing - a few tables.

Yellow is Bill’s favorite color, so while he controls everything... Yeah, that mess is going to stick around for a while. There’s slow applause all around. Bill’s finished his ‘floor show’.

Dipper grimaces, then tries to push his face back into a smile. He joins in anyway, clapping enthusiastically.

Stretching, and yawning, Bill gets up. He cracks his neck, stalking forward, towards the edge of the dais. Dipper watches him the whole time. Bill looks... Like none of that took any effort, and for all Dipper knows, it _didn’t_.

Bill’s always casual. Dipper is going to be _so casual_.

Maybe if he relaxed a little more he could even pull that off.

“Did you miss me?” Bill digs a finger into his cheek, grinning. “Admit it, you missed me!”

Weirdly….

The fact that Bill is here has also given people _energy_ , they’re enthusiastic, and _happy_ \- There are even a few beings that _call out_ to that insane statement. One of Dipper’s eyes twitches. He keeps smiling, and crosses his arms.

He feels like swearing. Bill’s arrogance is annoying at the best of times, it’s _worse_ knowing it’s _justified_.

Knocking him back down a few pegs is going to take all of the ammo Dipper’s been storing up for the last few months. And he _has_ to spend it all, when he gets the chance, or Bill’s going to be intolerable for _years_ after this.

Bill grins. He lifts one hand, cupping it against his chin, then taps his foot against the floor, humming to himself.  “Now, I gotta say, I like the enthusiasm! Oh man, it’s been way too long!” He says, spreading his arms wide. “What has it been? Not quite a year?” Bill’s teeth are very sharp in his smile. “You guys sure got up to some interesting stuff! Didja get _impatient_?”

The crowd before him laughs. Uncomfortably.

“You were thinking,” Bill says, slow, almost contemplative. His shoes make sharp noises on the dais as he paces, looking thoughtful. He stops, and turns, grinning again. “That I wouldn’t be back.”

Everyone is suddenly very still, and very silent. 

“Obviously, that’s not the case!” Bill says. He spreads his arms wide. Everything about his body language says calm, and casual. His eye is glowing red. The floor starts rumbling. “So tell me.” Bill’s voice rises, louder than anything. It has that weird reverb again, even through his human body -

Dipper shuts his eyes, and waits.

“Why’d you think _this_ was a good idea?”

There’s heat, and light from every direction.

There’s… a definite series of splattering sounds. Dipper flinches, then calms. Whatever blood’s being spread around, at least none of it’s hitting him. Not looking like Bill at the moment probably doesn’t matter, either - because there’s a lot of noises -

And a bunch of it is screaming.

With the blue that is Bill’s fire - it shines violet through Dipper’s eyelids. Nobody’s going to look so he covers them, briefly.

Dipper has always known Bill was a monster.

But these people are all monsters, _too_.

This is violent, sure. But not towards anyone not genuinely _evil_. Whatever goes on, Dipper will survive. He just has to wait this out. 

Dipper…. hasn’t asked about what Bill does when alone in the Mindscape. He hasn’t wanted to know.

Honestly, he’s not surprised at the answer.

Bill does whatever he wants. _To_ anyone he wants.

Right now, he wants to prove a point.

It takes a minute or two, before things calm down.

The worst of the screams have faded away, and there’s not enough light for Dipper to be seeing purple. And behind it all - in a really fucked up, insane response - there’s some cheering. For a second, Dipper cringes - Then he forces the smile back onto his face.

Things aren’t normal here. Everything Bill just did, as far as these beings are concerned? Is totally justified. Weirdly, despite the violence, and that squelching nearby wasn’t anything he ever needed to hear -

Dipper feels… vindicated.

This kind of thing can _never, ever_ happen, anywhere on Earth, not until his death does them part. Hell, even after he dies, unless Bill can find his own way into reality. Dipper kept the entire world _safe_. For decades, maybe longer, and if he works at it, he might be able to find a way to prevent Bill for centuries to come.

It’s worth anything. It’s worth _everything_.

And. Well.

If Dipper’s being honest with himself, the ‘consequence’ for their deal isn’t really much of one. It’s. Kind of. He doesn’t mind it.

Dipper wants to cover his face with his hands, but he takes a deep breath, and starts smiling again. Likely it looks more like a grimace.

There are so many humans that are smart, and handsome, and fun. Not… that any of them have ever been _interested_ , but they _exist_ . If Dipper had a choice. Between Bill and a human. Between a demon, and someone who _wasn’t_ an enormous jackass, who _didn’t_ drag Dipper into any dangerous situations, who would be… polite and predictable and _normal._

...He’d still pick the demon.

Bill has obviously driven Dipper insane, even though he can’t get into his head. It’s almost worth congratulating him on, it’s… a pretty impressive feat.

Dipper’s got to keep this quiet. Hide it. Under _no circumstances_ can Bill learn about this, it’d give him extra material to work with, and he already has way more than he needs.

He opens his eyes. Everything smells bitter, and grossly sweet. There’s smoke - Dipper glances around - and there are barely perceptible scorch marks on the floor. Whoever stood there isn’t just burnt, they’re moderately obliterated.

Bill’s taking another bow, full of himself as always. And things have changed.

After whatever Bill did, the walls are black. The door is gone. Now, things are bigger. Open exits, leading down halls. All triangle-shaped - definitely not the same surroundings, except for the dais, and the chair. Between the black bricks, the red lines, the triangle motif - Everything’s moved to-

Oh, hell. Dipper recognizes this place, even though he’s only been here twice. It’s kinda distinctive.

That throne was _Bill’s_. It belongs in _Bill’s place._ This... explains a lot.

Bill’s been away, for a long, long time. Ever since Dipper summoned him, bound him in that body - kept him limited - Dipper wouldn’t let him go anywhere near the Mindscape. Not until their contract.

But after that, Bill spent a lot of time in reality _anyway_.

Physical form is new to this demon, and he loves novelty. He can interact with reality, directly. For a being who almost always has to manipulate someone else to get what he wants... it must be fascinating. Things to burn, mortals to mess with. Human food to eat with a human body, which he can - sometimes, if he can talk Dipper into it - use in other ways. With all of those things to play around with -

Crap, that’s it. Bill’s been _on vacation_. He’s been bumming around, having fun.

Then some other demon - Dipper looks around - probably that huge, currently obliterated one -  took a chunk out of Bill’s home _._

He had to come back, with the most grandiose entrance possible. Time to put his foot down, nip any ideas in the bud. Remind everyone that nobody, absolutely _nobody_ , can get in the way of Bill Cipher, or touch his stuff. That even if he’s not around sometimes, nobody should want to be out of his favor, ever.

This party isn't about Dipper, is it. Bill's cleaning house. He’s taking back control. This is - unsurprisingly - _all about Bill._

"And of course! How could I forget!" Bill says suddenly. He grins, before gesturing broadly over the crowd. And he turns, with slow, grinning deliberation towards - "We have a _special guest_ here tonight!"

A spotlight snaps on from somewhere above. Dipper has to blink rapidly at the sudden light.

Time to face the music.

He takes deep breath, and though he can’t see much through the light - Okay. Smile, wave, look like… a huge arrogant douchebag. So in charge of things. And stand up, and look like he knows what he’s doing.

“Come on up, kid,” Bill says, brightly. Dipper thinks he sees his demon beckon. “Don’t keep me waiting!”

 _That_ just makes Dipper want to sit his butt right back down in his seat, cross his arms, and make Bill do all _kinds_ of waiting. But he can’t.

The idea of being shown off was…. Kind of flattering. Actually going up there and joining Bill on his awful stage - there’s a lot of people here. To.. wave at the sea of mostly immortal dangerous beings like they’re a bunch of fans. That… is what Bill would do. What he _has_ done, come to think of it.

Everyone is staring at him.

Dipper takes a deep breath, straightens his shoulders, then he walks - no, not walks, _strides_ , like he’s the greatest, that’s how Bill does stuff - through the crowd. His vision clears as the spotlight fades out.

Bill’s leaned a little over at the edge of the dais, holding out a hand and grinning. Dipper takes it, grinning back.

Bill’s head tilts, just slightly. He blinks - then hauls Dipper up onto the dais with him.

“So as you mighta noticed, it’s been awhile!” Bill declares, pulling Dipper along. He heads back further onto the dais, near that awful grey throne made of - oh god, are those _tiny people_?

There’s a general murmur - then Dipper is abruptly turned around, to stare at the crowd. Bill’s hands are on his shoulders. The demon slides one over his shoulder, then gestures over Dipper's chest.  
  
“Now you might be wondering,” Bill starts slow. “Who our lucky special guest might be!” Bill pats Dipper a couple times, almost fondly, on the chest.

Bill’s hands are warm. One of them is resting, very possessively on his chest, the other on his shoulder. It feels... Dipper sighs out softly, lets his face relax, and his eyes close. Just for a moment.

“Pine Tree here is _mine_ , and the rest, well.” He pauses, probably for effect, and his voice turns low, and pleased. “Why don't you take a guess?”

This is a _lot_ less painful than he thought it’d be.

“Now that we got that bit of business over with,” Bill says. Whenever it takes on that extra vibration, it makes something crawl up Dipper’s spine. At least now he sounds happy. “What d'ya say we ditch the invite shtick? And drinks on me!”

Like all semi-drunk party attendees, the news is greeted with cheering. Where before there was a crowd, it begins scattering, towards the bar. And onto the walls and over the staircases, through rooms that shouldn’t - oh right, physics don’t work here. Dipper glances around at the impossible geometry.

Bill barely explained anything. Not even what they are to each other, and it’s an immense relief that he’s not expected to - he doesn’t know - make out with Bill for five minutes in front of everyone. That had been on his list of ‘punch Bill and ditch the party’ contingencies.

For a moment, he doesn’t have to concentrate on keeping this awful expression up.

Keeping people wondering, never explaining anything clearly. Bill loves mystery. Dipper might have to show off, by himself, later - but he’s not being put through his paces, like a _pet_. Bill’s... kind of treating this like a game. ‘Who is this mysterious stranger?’ That… might even be fun.

Though with a small chance of getting maimed.

Bill draws away, and Dipper watches the rush of partygoers wander around the impossible geometry. Nobody’s paying attention anymore, or barely anyone. A moment of privacy, surrounded by chaos.

He turns towards his demon.

Bill’s lounging in his throne, relaxed. His arm propped against the armrest, chin in his hand. Smug and pleased - so far. He gives Dipper a smile, and it’s even one of the rarer ones, where he’s _actually_ happy. Must be, after taking back things so smoothly.

Dipper goes and stands next to him. Bill leers, and pats the arm of the throne. “Have a seat here, kid. Or...” He wiggles his eyebrows, gestures at his lap.

Dipper glares. Not a chance in hell. The throne’s creepy, even without Bill being a creep about it. But as long as they have a moment, he _should_ ask -

“So... What now?”

“It’s a party, sapling!” Bill exclaims. He almost seems surprised. “Have fun! Mingle!”

“Uh.” Dipper looks around.

He’s not all that great at socializing, and he knows nobody here. They aren’t even human. He knows so little about demons  - what Bill likes is obvious, but _he’s_ no basis to work from. He’s weird _everywhere_. Dipper’s pretty sure dumb jokes and arguments and magical calculus aren’t going to be the most fascinating topics of conversation.

Bill interrupts his thoughts. “In any case, a drink never hurts to start!”

And when Dipper turns back - there’s one in Bill’s hand, bright yellow in an absurdly shaped glass, complete with paper umbrella and a curly straw. Bill slurps at it, loudly. Eye closed.

Dipper rubs at his forehead. How can something that _looks_ so classy turn around and be completely the opposite.

Oh. Right. Because he’s _Bill_.

“Bill!”

There’s noise, everywhere, but _that_ shout’s a lot louder - close by -  

When Dipper glances over. It’s that one, pink, horned demon, surging up onto the dais. She - he’s pretty sure that’s a she, with one eye and buck teeth - her arms and legs are fire, pink fire, at that - she hops up the ledge, then on over, almost eagerly, towards Bill.

“Oh, darling, it’s been too long!” She says, moving in - “Or not long at all, considering.” She glances over at Dipper. He plasters that damned smile on his face before she can see too much - but also checks how Bill’s reacting. For clues.

“Pyronica.” Bill says, waving her off a bit. He looks slightly amused, but neutral. They know each other? “What’re you up to?”

“Congratulations, Bill!” She’s beaming. Whatever she’s enthusiastic about, it’s intense. “This is such a surprise!”

Bill’s settles back, smug. “Well, well, well. Already guessed, huh?” His eyebrow goes up. He sips his drink again. “That was pretty quick."

He almost looks impressed, or maybe thrown off. His game’s ending, and fast - but that interests him.

“It might be mysterious," Pyronica tosses her hair back with one hand. Weirdly, she seems proud. "But it's not hard to tell. He smells so much like you!" 

Bill starts blinking rapidly.

That’s a tell. Dipper’s had to learn all of them, to cope. Something’s thrown Bill off track, he’s reevaluating.

"Can I take a look?” Pyronica... It's weird, and awful, but she kind of reminds Dipper of _Mabel_ at the moment. She’s clasped her firey hands to her cheeks. She's thrilled about _something._  "Oh, he's so _young_!"

Okay, hold on a second - Dipper’s… Isn’t he supposed to _reek_ of _mortal_? Bill said he would! But they’ve been hanging around each other. And doing stuff. And their lives are tied together, that definitely doesn’t help.

Bill takes a second. He darts a look at Dipper. There's a beat of silence.

Then, Bill shrugs. “Yeah, whatever. Keep your mitts to yourself.”

Pinkness charges towards him - Dipper leans back as he’s suddenly confronted with - wow, Pyronica’s a lot taller than him - a very, very close demonic presence. Though this one is pink, and inhuman. It’s a lot more unsettling than the one he’s used to.

Pyronica coos, half-kneeling. “Aren’t you a handsome little guy!” She almost pokes Dipper on the nose before drawing back.

Dipper keeps smiling. This is weird. Even Bill thinks it's off. Charming, right, he has to - he searches for a response -

“Thanks.”

Maybe he could be more eloquent, or should be. But _Bill’s_ confused, and that makes _Dipper_ confused.

What the _hell_ is going on.

Pyronica gasps, backing up slightly. She looks delighted. And more than a bit surprised, she holds a hand over her mouth. “He’s talking!”

“Yeah.” Bill speaks slowly. Not sounding very happy anymore. He’s watching them both, swirling his drink, and his eye narrows as he starts going for another swig. “He never shuts up.”

Something's off. Even Bill's acting like something's off,  Dipper knew something was off - he laughs, and while it's nervous he hopes it doesn’t sound weird. “Uh, what?”

“Not even a year, and he’s so complete!" Pyronica narrows her eye. "It's a cute shell, but what _shape_ is he?”

Bill freezes, mid-drink. His eye is wide.

Pyronica makes another playful poke at Dipper - he backs up a step. Wow, that’s… annoying. “I'd ask around, but _nobody_ knew you were budding.”

Bill spits his drink everywhere.

That’s… weird. Budding? What, like, a flower? That doesn’t make sense. Or like-

Dipper looks back at Bill. The demon’s choking somewhat, coughing loud, hitting himself in the chest, some of his drink went into his human lungs. And that look on his _face-_

Oh.

Oh, _man_.

A bright red X pops up between Pyronica and Dipper with a loud buzzing noise. They both startle back.

“Oh, come on!” Bill says, sounding disappointed. “I can’t believe how wrong you got it!” He tuts softly as Pyronica straightens up, surprised. “Don’t you know a mortal when you see one?”

Now she just looks stunned.

“What?” She gives Dipper another look, and - Maybe Dipper does still have human…. Scent or whatever, she’s caught it now - and she makes a face. “Oh.” She hesitates, and takes a step away from Dipper. She turns to Bill. “Um. What’s it _for_?”

Bill rolls his eye, leaning forward. “You got it wrong, you’re useless. How about you _try_ to make yourself useful, and round up the other losers?” For a moment, it looks like she’s going to protest -

But Bill grins. “Or maybe I’ll suddenly remember that _you_ were on _that guy’s_ ” He jabs a thumb at one of the severed tentacles, still squirming on one of the tables. “ _Invite list_.” He narrows his eye. “Now why might that be, huh?”

Instantly she salutes, grinning, and heads away. She picks up speed as she goes. Soon she’s running.

Dipper watches as Bill’s eye twitches.

The glass he's holding shatters in his grip.

Bill Cipher has never had a mortal before. Nobody would expect him to want one. Bill’s biology, as far he has any, doesn’t work like anything human. And he’s _been gone for a while._

Then he shows up. With someone new. Who uses Bill’s magic, his fire. Dipper _smells_ like Bill. Apparently a _lot_ like Bill, more than the demon thought he would. There's  _symbolism_ , too - Dipper touches the suit jacket still draped over his shoulder - he has part of the thing that he suspects might be part of Bill’s body, that was left to _mark_ him.

And what Bill likes - what he shows the most favor towards - is _himself_.

Or, say, things that used to be parts of himself.

Dipper can’t help it. His face still hurts, but he really has to laugh.

Because for one, tiny split second, that might have actually been a look of _horror_ on Bill’s face. Maybe just intense disgust. Dipper’s never asked about where new demons come from - he was worried Bill might actually answer - and he's sure there's different ways. But by the look of it, the idea of _sprouting_ one is about as appealing to Bill as shaving Stan's back hair.

It’s the totally logical - if weird - conclusion, and Bill led everyone right into it, by being vague.

Dipper is never, ever going let his demon live this down.

Bill looks casual again. Or is at least sitting casually, expression neutral. Then he catches the look on Dipper’s face, and glares.

Screw him, this is hilarious. Dipper clears his throat.

Nobody’s nearby - but they’re not alone. While he can’t resist saying it, he _can_ speak quietly. It's not the time to get too much attention. “Great job, Bill." Dipper tries not to do _more_ than smile - it'd be too loud. " You nipped that in the-”

“Cram a sock in it,” Bill interrupts, just as quietly. His eye is red again, pissed off, but dull. "This won't last."

So much for Bill’s game. He’s going to have to _correct_ everyone now, instead of dangling a mystery in front of them. Now his evening isn’t off to a great start. And Dipper is _blameless_.

“You’re crap at impressions, kid. It’s not even cute,” Bill says, rubbing at his eye briefly before glaring again. He’s caught onto Dipper’s act, and he’s unimpressed as hell with it. “What in the hell got into your skull? You’re _messing this up_.”

“Well.” Dipper shrugs, suddenly embarrassed. “I don’t know.”

Okay. He… didn’t help, but he’s _mostly_ blameless, it’s still funny. Everyone’s assumption isn’t going to last. Once word gets around he’s mortal - that’s… That seems like it might be a big deal. Scandalous, too, if Dipper’s not everything he’s supposed to be, and that’s-

He sighs. No reason not to ask. ”What _the hell_ am I supposed to do?”

Bill gets up from his throne, and snags his suit jacket off Dipper’s shoulder.

While he’s shrugging it on, he looks at Dipper. Eternal smile in place, eye focused. But Bill's mind? Is elsewhere. Rearranging his clothes on automatic.

Something's occupying his thoughts, and Bill needs some time.

It takes a second, then - Apparently, he gives in to something he's not thrilled about, because Bill gives a long, resigned, sigh.

“Normally I like it when you get ideas, kid, but as you so _helpfully_ assisted in pointing out -” He tugs at a sleeve, finally decides he’s back in order with a nod. “Getting the wrong one’s gonna screw me over.”

Getting close to Bill used to disturb Dipper. Now, Dipper feels some of the tension sink out of him when Bill leans in, right in his face.

“You are an incredibly stubborn, needlessly defiant, frustrating mortal sack of meat. You get into trouble, and don’t fold easy under pressure.” Bill chucks Dipper under the chin softly with one fist. “Go with what you know.”

Dipper blinks.

This is all about… appealing to Bill. Showing off why Dipper’s great, not why he’s annoying, Dipper actively tries to annoy Bill, that’s easy. But he’s supposed to be impressive, not-

“That’s your advice?” Dipper slaps Bill’s hand away, damn it, he’s messing with him again.  “‘Act natural?’”

“Oh, you’re right, sorry about that,” Bill’s voice drips with sarcasm. “Funny thing about me is how little I know about this kinda crap.” He smacks Dipper on the side of the head, but not hard. “If I wanted you to do something like that impression bullshit I woulda _mentioned_ it.”

Wait - Dipper jabs a finger at Bill’s face. “You said ‘affectionate’. _And_ ‘devoted’.”

“Yeah, ‘devoted’, not ‘mindless’, or ‘simpering’. Learn the difference.” Bill grins and licks the tip of Dipper’s finger - he glares, and wipes it on Bill’s suit. “So up the wrath a bit. Pride, too ‘cause you should have a lot morea that, you’re with _me_ \- Oh greed, that’s a good one.”

Bill shrugs a little - but he’s a ton happier. “This _is_ a party, kid, act like it.”

There was so much lecturing. Lecturing DIpper on etiquette - or lack thereof - and gossip, and how he should wear his suit, and how he should be… more this, or better at that, but not _someone else_. He is always defiant, and stubborn and-

\- Dipper’s an idiot. He knew this -

 _Flirting_.

Something he’s been doing with Bill ever since they met. The rules of it are… still strange, Dipper doesn’t get exactly how it works - but it’s familiar territory. He takes a few seconds to think about it.

“You jackass.” Dipper speaks at a normal volume this time. “Fine. I guess you can have what you want.”

Bill growls, raise an eyebrow, and smacks Dipper on the butt. “I'd save the lust for the afterparty, sapling,” He moves closer, and he's way too pleased about this - "But, hey, if you insist!"

Dipper smacks a hand on Bill’s face. But not hard. Just to turn him away. “Don’t even _think_ about it.” He leaves his hand on Bill’s cheek for a moment, listening to him laugh.

Because this is what Bill _wants_.

Dipper’s doing all kinds of impossible, strange things today, in this impossible, strange place. Trusting his awful dumbass husband. Doing what he wants. Bill asked for this, and Dipper is more than happy to do it, it’s so easy. It’s. He enjoys this.

And if it looks bad to other demons. Like Bill has really awful taste in mortals. Then that’s _his_ fault. The others don’t matter much anyway, Dipper guesses. Bill’s, unfortunately, way over their heads. Nobody can tell him what to do, and he’s decided that the _best_ mortal is.

Is. 

Dipper files that fact away. It’s _evidence_. For stuff.

He has a _list_.

Someday he’s going to confront Bill. And when he does, he’s got every moment memorized, and ready to use. All the facts are in order, and they’re piling up. Dipper can’t _wait_ for the chance. It’s going to make Bill _furious_ that he’s been found out, _again_.

He finally pulls his hand away from Bill’s face, looking at his demon with disgust, because Bill’s decided a hand is just as good a target, licking it - and sighs.

“You, uh,” Dipper thinks for a second, then shrugs. “You wanna go bother people?”

He still has to mingle. And get into a fight, Bill won’t let him get away from this without proving he’s strong. And he still knows nobody - but now Bill needs to mingle, too, and he knows _everything_. He might even be helpful. Occasionally.

Bill’s grinning, wide and pleased and genuine. “Pine Tree, you read my mind.”

When he offers his arm to Dipper again, he takes it easily. Maybe leans in a little.

Parties here suck. They’re insane and wrong and weird. But if Dipper can insult Bill, and bicker with him - they’ll make some stupid plan to handle the rest, and through it all, be their own twisted version of normal. 

With all of that, this party might turn out to be, bizarrely, genuinely… _fun_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead and neither is this fic.


	5. Chapter 5

“Alright,” Dipper says, “What’s the plan?”

Bill groans, tilting his head back.

Everyone’s misunderstanding has annoyed him, and it’s no surprise. Hell, Dipper’s not thrilled either - but screw Bill. It was mostly his fault anyway.

“For you? Nothing,” Bill says. Even though they’re stepping down the dais, entering the crowd, he’s speaking at his normal volume. “It’s a big pile of bullcrap. You know it, I know it, and everyone’s gonna know it sooner or later. Because you’re,” He waves a little at Dipper. “A big fleshy pile of living meat. Word’ll get out.”

“You’re sure-”

Bill smacks Dipper’s hand where it’s holding his arm. “One, you’re mortal, not some offshoot. Fact. Two, I don’t feel like explaining it to everyone. If these morons think it’s outside the realm of thought that _I_ own a mortal, while I’m _currently owning_ a mortal _in_ a realm of thought, they’re too dumb to bother with.”

Dipper doesn’t know what to say. What? Just let it lie? That may or may not be the right thing to do - He glances around -

And sees a few beings nearby start looking amongst each other.

They _heard_ that.

It’s strange, that Bill’s speaking normally. He’s not making any attempt to be secretive.

Oh hell. That’s the _point_.

Letting people ‘eavesdrop’ is probably the best way to spread the word. An _announcement_ would look like Bill was frantically covering his tracks, or something else entirely. A rumor - and if Pyronica’s reaction was anything, a _scandalous_ one - will spread like wildfire. And it’s true, so. Backed up by facts.

Bill’s doing just the right thing. He made a misstep, but he’s recovering, fast, he never stays down for long.

He’s….

Fine. Bill’s really good at this.

He’s really good at a lot of things.

Dipper doesn’t like thinking about it, since his demon’s already so full of himself. But when they’re on the same page - a weird, morally ambiguous page, that usually ends up with something on fire -

Damn it, it works _so well_.

Except for the fires. But those are usually his fault. He can’t blame Bill for everything.

Including what Dipper pulled. He mutters it out, though it’s quiet. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you kept your trap shut at least,” Bill grumbles. “But nah,” He shrugs it off, not angry at Dipper, which is… honestly a surprise. “My bet is someone went and started telling everyone,” He puts on a high, mocking tone. “‘Oh, I know! I bet Bill’s on progenity leave!’” Bill makes a few mock-gagging gestures, shuddering. “That spread _months_ ago, or it wouldn’t be popular opinion.”

Dipper squeezes Bill’s arm a little. “I’m surprised they believed it.”

Bill’s never seemed like the kind of guy who wanted…. Dipper didn’t want to ask about it, considering their whole married thing. But he was _right_ , and seeing that expression on Bill’s face was amazing. The weight that’s fallen off his shoulders is a huge relief.

“No kidding! Rumor mills work fast, kid, but this is ridiculous.” Bill shrugs. “But nah, I’d bet that’s not the only idea that’s been going ‘round.” Bill says, frowning. “It’s not even been that long!”

Things aren’t _normal_ here. The roles aren’t clear. Bill being gone isn’t just an absence. Dipper has to twist things _around_.

So.

The boss, Bill, going on ‘vacation’, without any notice. And Bill wasn’t answering his… metaphysical phone calls, which wouldn’t be unusual even if he _was_ at his desk, knowing him. Maybe that went on, for a while.

Time passed.

It started to look safe to wonder - Is Bill on _progenity_ leave? - maybe too busy, maybe he was sick. Maybe he was _fired_. Maybe he’s _never coming back_ \- Then people scrambling for his position while they thought they had a chance. And this has been going on for months, it got to _this_ point-

No _wonder_ Bill’s so ticked off.

“That sucks.” Dipper says, with some genuine feeling, for once.

All of Bill’s expected free time - and he loves free time - cut into by overambitious underlings scrambling for power. Now he has to do something about it.

“Got that right.” Bill gives Dipper a glare, but only briefly. “Congrats, you’re a massive pain in the ass.”

Dipper…. Doesn’t pat Bill’s arm. That’d be stupid. He _had_ expected some surprises at this party. It’d be ridiculous not to.

The biggest one so far is that _Bill’s_ having to do most of the work.

 _He’s_ the center of everything here, he’s got a reputation to keep up, and Dipper can’t do that for him. Bill simply _couldn’t_ foist the work off onto Dipper, because _he_ has to be in control. He wasn’t concerned because he thought Dipper couldn’t be himself, being rude, and stubborn, and defiant.

It was because there’s so much Bill has to do, and he thought Dipper might ruin it.

Dipper should feel insulted by that. Instead, he’s…

He sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

Okay, he doesn’t exactly have the greatest track record when it comes to massive accidents, or mistakes, and involving Bill in them, it’s how they met in the first place. Though part of that was _Bill’s_ fault. One day, Dipper might even get him to own up to it.

“Alright, sapling, I gotta...” Bill trails off.  The crowd parts in front of them as they make their way to the bar. “Make a few calls.” He grins, but it’s not as enthusiastic as usual.

Dipper lets himself be pushed onto a stool, sitting, and blinks around. At least there’s slightly less of a rush, but - the crowd is growing now, and fast, there’s no more invitation list. _Anyone_ could come in.

Leaning up against the bar, Bill turns, and grins at the four-armed furry bartender. Dipper can’t even see its face, it’s just… fur, everywhere.

“I’m gonna be off a bit, but let him have whatever he wants.” Bill says, and darts his gaze towards Dipper. “He’s a tough one. I’m sure he can handle anything!”

_Son of a-_

Dipper kicks Bill in the thigh. His heart is pounding. He grabs Bill’s arm. “Aha, wait. Wait. What was that?”

Okay, what the hell? He’s being abandoned, _again_?

“I know you’ll miss me, sapling, but I won’t be gone long! Ten minutes, tops,” Bill says, sounding all calm, and reassuring, because he’s a dick. “You know what to do.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Dipper replies, running a hand down his face. Bill ruffles his hair, grinning.

Dipper slaps Bill’s arm away from his head, giving Bill a disgusted look. There could have been more warning, he knew he’d have to fight, but - Bill won’t be there. For backup.

Bill shakes his head, very slightly, and his smile lessens. Dipper can read that smile, it says… Bill’s not happy about this, either. He wanted to party, and then all of this crap came up.

Then he glances idly around, at the other demons - who Dipper has to handle _on his own_. Bill gives Dipper another look, taps himself on the chest - and _that_ says - if _Bill’s_ in the room, nobody’s going to approach him. That’s part of why he’s taking off.

Dipper already knew that he had to be _impressive._  Not sitting around with Bill behind him all the time. He doesn’t even _want_ to look like he needs protecting, but it’s still upsetting, he has no idea what to expect. Maybe he _would_ have had to face this, sometime, but there are hundreds of beings here.

Fighting was always on the table, but this is on a way bigger scale than he’d thought he’d have to deal with. Giving Bill a shove doesn’t help - it moves him exactly zero inches, per usual.

Bill’s smile drops another fraction. He raises an eyebrow, and shrugs. This kinda thing was going to happen, sooner or later, and Dipper’s gotta face it. _Some_ warning is better than _none_.

Dipper hates Bill, so, so much sometimes, because -

Of all the stuff Bill pulls, this mix between what Bill _is,_ and what he _could_ be doing - is by _far_ the most frustrating, because Dipper can’t call him out on it. Depending on how you look at things - Bill’s either the _opposite_ of helpful, _or extremely_ helpful. Or maybe he just enjoys being cryptic, the jerk.

This isn’t fine. Not by human standards. But by _demon_ standards - giving warning, preparing Dipper for this scene, making it clear Dipper is _his_ \- that’s _protection_ , annoying, but - Bill’s been more than generous.

Dipper hasn’t figured out how to tackle some things yet. Letting them lie, and coping with Bill's weirdness was easier than facing it - but this party has given him a little perspective. Bill is from another plane of _existence_ , he’s weird, and Dipper _knows_ Bill’s... both not as omniscient as he pretends to be, _and_ smarter than he seems.

They’ll work on it.

Bill starts ruffling Dipper’s hair again, annoyingly. “Ah, you don’t wanna be without me for even a second. Can’t blame ya, I’m more fun than anyone else here,” He grins, wide, and confident. “But it’ll seem like nothing, guarantee it.” Bill leans in closer. His breath puffs over Dipper’s cheek.

“ _Trust me_.”

Dipper watches his demon for a few moments. He takes in a slow, calming breath.

“You’re an asshole,” says Dipper, finally. He leans on the bar, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them.

Maybe he’s sulking a little. He does feel better, though.

Bill wants Dipper _all to himself_ . He’s not done with Dipper yet, he’s said so, multiple times, he’s incredibly frustrated by this one young human - and he still wants _more_ of it. He’s not going to risk the loss. If he’s the master of the mind, and he thinks this’ll be easy, with everything they’ve gone over  - it’s.

Probably, maybe, very possibly…. Okay.

Dipper can’t rely on that. Things _never_ go his way.

Okay, so he has fire, he might have to use that. No problem there, that’s comforting. _Not_ starting fires is still an issue, whenever he gets startled, or upset. Honestly, he’s more worried about his brain.

Dipper’s mind’s attractive. _Bill_ can’t get in - and he’s not letting _anyone_ else. They’ve gone over the theory, over, and over, and over _every_ theory, to keep other demons _out_.

According to Bill, Dipper just… needs to tuck all his thoughts behind his will, somehow. Not _real_ magic. More of a… sleight-of-mind. But that relies on Dipper’s _willpower_ , and he can’t see his own mind. Hell, _Bill_ can’t see his mind, to tell him if he’s not doing it right. What if it’s not strong enough -

He shuts his eyes, and tries it anyway.

Never hurts to be prepared. Holing up under sheer…. stubbornness feels kind of like - eerily like - dealing with Bill, and Dipper knows how to do _that_.

He almost wants to thank his demon, for the warning, short notice or not. Being able to _prepare_ for inevitable disaster is so rare -it almost feels like a gift.

“Sit back and relax,” Bill says, clapping Dipper heartily on the back a couple times. “It’ll only be a sec.”

Dipper blinks his eyes open, starts to speak -

There’s a wet, red mark on the bar, near his face.

Dipper seizes his demon's wrist, pulling it towards himself.

Bill shouldn’t have crushed his first drink. He _knows_ this body’s not as durable as he would like. He doesn’t bleed much, he barely has a circulatory system - the only time he even _has_ a heart is when- Sighing, Dipper pries Bill’s hand open, and winces at the sight.

Not much blood, but deep gashes. He picks out a couple shards of glass from Bill’s palm, and glares up at his demon. “Why the hell did you do that?”

Bill tries to jerk his arm away, glaring back. “Don’t get so handsy, sapling. It’s _my_ physical form. I do what I want with it!” He tries another yank, but Dipper’s got a solid grip.  
  
“Yeah, well, _I_ made it,” Dipper says, pulling Bill’s arm back towards his chest, both hands wrapped around the wrist now. “So quit _poking holes_ in this thing.”

Stupid illusionary body. Dipper made it with his own _blood_ , and it’s weird, and impossible, and strange. Just like Bill. Mostly fireproof, immune to hunger, and tiredness, and change. Hard to damage - But not invulnerable.

There’s a long, _disgusted_ groan, from Bill - but he stops being a wimp about things, arm relaxing. He doesn’t cut Dipper off from his magic, and lets the healing happen with a grimace. Dipper’s had more than a little practice at this, since his dumbass husband keeps pulling this kind of thing. It’s the work of seconds, sealing up that wet, red rift.

Dipper lets Bill’s wrist go, and ignores the way his demon rubs at his palm, muttering something insulting.

Bill doesn’t mind pain. In this body, he's not a total fan, either. But the route Dipper has to take, twisting Bill’s magic to make healing _work_ \- It makes Bill feel _sick_ , and _that’s_ a feeling he avoids as much as demonly possible.

“Alright, I’m out,” Bill says grumpily, straightening up, brushing off the front of his suit. “Don’t get wasted, kid.” He darts in - Dipper barely leans away in time. Bill's lips meet his cheek instead of landing on their target. Why the _hell_ does he insist on this stupid goodbye kiss thing, Dipper should have seen that coming sooner. ”I’m still planning on that afterparty.”

Dipper watches as Bill stalks away - the crowd demons parting before him, almost rippling in his wake - and flips him off behind his back.  

Screw Bill. Dipper doesn’t like seeing Bill with chunks of him missing. Even though he knows the demon doesn’t care much, that it can’t kill him - well, maybe Bill should _stop injuring_ the body he’s stuck in, if he doesn’t want to go through _that_ whole process.

He turns back to the bar.

Oh, thank hell, he has a drink. Complete with curly straw, and umbrella. Just like Bill’s, but blue this time. Though -

“Uh,”  Dipper says, hesitantly. He raises a finger, because - “This isn’t-” Exactly like Bill’s drink, but very close, and he didn’t order anything.

The bartender wipes the inside of a glass with a cloth, and says nothing. After a moment or two, it moves away.

Dipper lets his hand slap back down on the bar. He pokes at his drink with the straw, and resolutely doesn’t take a single sip. He’s not trusting this. Not more than he trusts Bill, which is about as far as he can throw him, because he's -

Dipper casts a look over his shoulder. Not visible anymore. Dipper can still feel Bill’s presence, through their bond, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

That is... entirely expected. There was warning. He was told about this, and it’s reasonable, and honestly, Dipper should be glad. There are so many times Dipper _wants_ Bill to fuck off and he hasn’t, now he _has_ , therefore, there is absolutely no reason that this could be-

There was warning, anyway.

So far, very few people know he’s mortal. Part of why Bill’s doing this _now_. No reason for people to try anything ‘cute’- aka, deadly - and Bill will be back, shortly.

He clutches at his glass, tight. Dipper breathes in slowly, turns back towards the bar - and pauses.

Floating over the stool to his left is an octagon, and it’s staring at Dipper like he’s grown a second head. Its drink trickles down onto the floor, tilted in its hand. Weird. Dipper raises an eyebrow, waiting - but it says nothing.

Whatever. He has power. He probably has enough will. He knows how to use fire, and Bill won’t complain if he uses a ton of it, because he’s used a ton himself. And he's tired of this party _already_.

He squares his shoulders and hunches over, staring at his stupid drink. The faster Bill does whatever he needs to do, the faster this is over with. He can relax, for a second -

Until someone, during a lull in the chatter, suddenly calls out “Dibs!”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then shouts. And _explosions._

Everything behind him sounds like the start of a brawl.

Dipper is suddenly, and very acutely aware how far away Bill is.

He sits up straight. Turning around is probably a bad idea. Dipper is not going to do more than grip the stem of this drink, and to look very, _very_ calm, and _ignore_ this. Yelling, arguing - that’s at least one death rattle - more than a few fights break out - he wants to clap his hands over his ears. He thought earlier was loud, with the rush to the bar, but this is so much _more_.

Dipper shuts his eyes again, tries not to react. Okay. Tons of fights. Those aren’t his business, they shouldn’t be his, anyway, the rumor mill is ‘fast’ apparently, but not _that_ fast _._

He shakes his head, and now he _does_ clap a hand over one ear - which doesn’t help, that’s not where the noise is coming from.

People are yelling all around him. That’s not new.

Somewhere else, there are _voices_.

Thoughts, bouncing off his mind. He can’t see them. But they’re definitely there. In a strange way he can _feel_ them, trickling over the covering he put over his own mind.

The last time he faced something like this - it was like being caught up in a flood. Those were _human_ thoughts, he wasn’t prepared, and it nearly killed him. Now the… thought-rain, or whatever, is coming from _demons._ It’s terrifying, and loud, starting to get louder, he can almost make out words now. And.

...It’s not that bad.

 _This_ time, he was prepared, and he’s learned more than a few mental tricks. _Bill_ gave Dipper the idea-slash-blueprints to build this. It’s pretty solid. If Dipper's doing it right - Bill's great at minds, he knew what he was telling Dipper to do, even though it took a while to get across. Dipper's.

He's safe.

Nothing’s getting through.  _Bill_  thought that Dipper could stand up to _anything_ . Be unchangeably _himself_ , strong, and unmovable, and it’s working. One smug demon, right about another thing.  That…. Correct, smart, asshole.

The thought still makes Dipper sit up straighter.

Dipper breathes in a careful, slow rhythm, before he turns around in his seat. He sits back, crosses his arms and tries to look casual. Okay, yeah that's - Dipper winces - a bunch of fighting, and not the 'fun' kind. There's death on people's minds, he watches a couple of burly things wrestle in front of him, swearing like they're both accusing the other of stealing their girl.

And Dipper _really_ wants to know what the _hell_ set people off, this is a lot worse than he thought he’d get.

Things shouldn’t be this chaotic without Bill - if anything it should be _more_ chaotic when Bill’s around. Dipper's mind is clear, and nobody’s attacking him physically, so… he listens.

“-took _way_ too long, what’s it _for_?”

“-so what? If _Bill_ wants it, _I_ want it.”

“ _Powerful_ little human-”

Oh crap, word _does_ spread fast.

Everyone knows, and with Bill gone - There's Dipper, alone, dangling right in front of a ravenous horde - Bill and him _were_ spreading the word, but _this_ quickly? He -

He fixed Bill’s hand.

Okay. _That’s_ why he’s screwed.

Dipper can do something _Bill_ can’t do. Part of him still reeks of ‘mortal’, if you’re looking for it, and a burst of human-only magic, fixing Bill’s hand - that’d make people pay attention. Then he didn’t even _ask_ anything for the help, even when he was dealing the most powerful being here.

That’s _not_ demonic, not in any way he can think of.

Not many other conclusions to come to, other than - Bill _brought in a mortal._ For some reason. _Why_ isn't obvious yet.

Dipper rubs at the symbol on his left palm, then shoves it into one of his pockets. Bill loves surprises, so. If he didn't reveal _that,_ first thing, he's got a plan in mind. Dipper can't ruin it for his demon, because Bill thought he _would_ , and Dipper's going to prove him _wrong_.

Knowing why this is happening doesn’t make Dipper feel any better, or less like some kind of _prize_. Being fought over, like a piece of meat. If he’s lucky, he can wait this out. Bill should be back soon, and. Then. Then they need to have some words with each other.

Everywhere, voices are raised -

“Are you joking? For - C’mon, look! Nobody’s moving it! This is a _trick-_ ”

“ _Yeah_ , I’m lookin’,” Says something else. A wet, slavering sound. “I’m going for it.”

“No!” There’s another smack. “Bill’s bent outta shape, he brings _that_ along, and he leaves it _alone_? Honeypot, man. That’s not a mortal, it’s a landmine.”

Dipper breathes, slow. Shutting his eyes, sitting straight up, and firm, and strong - he can almost pretend like none of this is happening.

A warm hand claps on his shoulder-

“Whoa, whoa! Easy, there!” Bill’s grinning, even though Dipper’s clenched fist almost collided with his face, surrounded with bright blue fire -

Bill glances at it, and then at Dipper, and back again - his grin widens, showing - wait, that’s more teeth than usual, did something go wrong? “Maybe you and I should get outta here.”

Dipper lowers his arm, letting out a sharp breath. Not quite a laugh.

Bill came back before things got bad. Everything’s going to be fine.

“Yeah, sure. Definitely.” Getting off of his seat, Dipper stands up. He wants to cup his demon’s cheek in his hand, lead him into a - but he stops his arm before it can reach up. He’s still pissed at Bill, his demon’s not getting anything, not until he understands how annoyed Dipper is.  “Where’re we going?”

“Oh, I’ll show you,”  Bill says, and his tongue licks over his lower lip, as his grip tightens - Dipper winces - ow, Bill’s grabbing his shoulder _too_ tightly - “You’ve never seen the best of the Fearamid, my precious little human.”

Hold on _one fucking second._

Dipper braces himself against the pulling, and watches as the -

The _imposter_ seems surprised, when Dipper doesn’t let himself be dragged. It looks _insulted_ , where Bill would be _amused._ And when he searches through their bond - Bill’s even further away than before. He’s nowhere _near_ this creature that’s holding onto him, it’s-

“We should take some time just for us, Pine Tree!” The imposter says, leaning in closer. Its other hand comes up, tries to trail along Dipper’s cheek/ He jerks his head away -“I know I’ve told you,” It coos - Holy shit, it _cooed_ at Dipper, that’s _disgusting._ This thing spits out more words - “How _beautiful_ you are.”

Dipper grabs it by the collar. For a second, it smiles. It’s expecting something pleasant.

He pulls it in, and slams his head right into that false, Bill-shaped face. There’s a satisfying _crunch_ as its nose crumples, complete with high-pitched, inhuman squeal - the creature tries to stumble away. Dipper keeps holding it steady by its collar. It’s a shapeshifter, it’s a fake.

Something sick wells in Dipper’s chest - this isn’t _Bill_ , and he almost-

“You,” Dipper says, and hits the thing again, adding fire to his fist. Its eye widens, it _shrieks_ , it makes a wet noise of protest. “Should. Back. _Off_.” He punches it with each word, steam rises wherever he hits the thing.

There’s a quick, wet gurgle, as this imposter tenses, goes translucent - then drops out of his grip like it was made out of water. Some gooey thing worms away over the floor, like an extra-fast snake, while the rest melts into clear liquid.

Dipper’s arms are wet with - he doesn’t know, blood, or bodily fluids - and he shakes them, rapidly. _Gross_.

At least it’s _gone_.

“Alright.” He lets fire flare all over himself, in a wide circle, turning on the crowd. “That’s _enough_!”

If these creatures want to try to get him, he’s going to make that as big a pain in the ass as possible. He deals with _Bill_ , and he’s King Asshole of the Nightmare Realm. How hard can the others be?

It’s gone creepily quiet again, everyone stilling as fights slowly break up, he’s the focus of everything, it makes him feel -

Fuck it, Dipper doesn’t care. _That is never happening again._

“Everyone who’s trying to get in my brain can forget it.” He can still feel the pressure against his mind - he shakes his head.  “It won’t work. And you can’t fool me, either.”

The mental assault - except for a few, scattered drops - cuts off, like Dipper turned off the tap. A couple harsh blows slam in, almost as afterthoughts, in awkward succession, he ignores them.

“I can’t be captured by _anyone_ ,” He jerks a thumb at himself, spreading the fire in a wide circle around himself. “So go ahead. Try something.” Between the heat and light - some beings scuttle away - others flinch - “I _dare_ you.”

Fuck this party, and this place, and everyone here. He’s not going to sit back and let things happen to him. _He’ll_ happen to _them_ , and turning the tables, taking back _control_ feels…. He wonders if this why Bill enjoys this so much. 

A bunch of demons slink away from arguing over him to - something else.

There’s chatter going on, but it’s quieter. No brawling. Nobody’s attacking him. Physically or mentally, it’s.

Sitting back down, heart pounding in his chest, Dipper lets the fire drop.

It’s calm. Or normal. For a very loose definition of both those words.

Holy shit.

That actually _worked_.

Bill’s a big deal, he has a claim on Dipper, and Dipper’s a big enough - not a threat, but annoying to attack - that they left off. Once Dipper stopped _worrying_ \- Started using the things Bill’s given him, and taught him - That _was_ easy. Damn it, Bill’s going to be so smug about this. Dipper will put up with it. Better than his doubts being proven _right_.

“Hey there.”

Dipper flinches - turns to face a literally wolfish grin, right up in his face - He meets this thing’s eyes. Burning is always an option, scary-looking or not.

“What?”

The creature leans in.”Well,” It says, slow - like it has a fascinating secret it’s just been _dying_ to tell someone - “I’m into _bones_.”

“Uh.” Dipper blinks for a second.“Good for you?”

“Yeah,” It’s panting now, licking its chops - “Wanna help me bury one?”

Wait, that-

Dipper glances down - wishes he hadn’t - meets this thing’s eyes again. Every part of him recoils. Backing up against the bar - His elbow knocks into something - he hears glasses fall, and shatter.

This can’t be happening. Nobody should. What Dipper said was a _threat_ , not.

“Please,” Scoffs another being, voice dripping with condescension. It saunters up behind the wolfish one, and flutters its eyelashes at Dipper. “I think the human prefers playing with _fire_.”

Oh no.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no.” Dipper laughs nervously, he tucks his suit jacket around himself tighter “Wait. That - that wasn’t what you think, I-”

His face feels so hot it burns. He can’t imagine what color he is.

Protesting doesn’t help, because...

Besides the two confronting him directly, there’s a lot more giving him weird looks, and few sliding  closer. On the bar - Dipper glances behind himself - there’s already a dozen drinks of weird colors, a teeming bucket of cockroaches, and something squirms its way out of a martini glass, escaping across the bar.

He shouldn’t have said anything. Waited for Bill to come back. Daring people, how stupid was that, he should have known.

‘Act Natural’, Bill said. Be yourself, Bill said. Be attractive, Bill said. Apparently Dipper’s that, in some weird, demonic way, he’s been getting tons of attention ever since he walked in.

Bill did _not_ say ‘hit on everyone within earshot’.

Dipper knows what the whole defiant mortal thing does for his demon. Obviously, Bill’s not the only one who feels that way about it - but he didn’t mean his threat like _that_. He guesses everyone’s decided what this mortal’s ‘for’.

“What’d’ya say, mortal?” These creeps are coming closer - too close - Dipper feels a strong grip on his thigh, which slides slowly upward-

Dipper blasts fire over both of their faces, and chests, and everywhere, swearing, and stumbling back. If nothing else, he can do that _._

It sends both of them stumbling off, after a screech or two, casting furious glances back at him. Dipper tries control his breathing. Leaving, that’s. That’s great, way better than going after his life instead of his - yeah. They’re leaving.

Dipper's kind of known for ages now. He's used it. The fact of the matter is - is that Dipper isn’t a brainless pet, or a threat. He’s a challenge - and for Bill at least - that means a _temptation_.

Dipper’s something to be won.

Judging by the drinks - they think _Bill_ hasn’t completely won him over yet, which is - Well. _These_ beings don’t stand a chance, it’s ridiculous that they’re even trying.

The _fucked up_ thing is...

Once that pair retreats, the crowd around him starts to _laugh._ All the same raucous amusement as watching a bad pickup line end up with a drink tossed in someone's face. Dipper thinks he hears a whistle, glares around for the source.

Okay. One thing learned - a fireball to the head is a definite ‘no’, great. He has that down. And... that’s only a temporary solution, because he sees a few more demons primping themselves, straightening out their clothes - if they're wearing clothes - and he lets out a small, defeated sound.

Second thing learned. Power is attractive here.

For everyone Dipper turns down this way - two others are going to like it, and think, maybe I could - Damn it, Dipper wouldn’t be in this awful situation, if a certain demon hadn’t thought, at one point - ‘hey, nothing bad’s gonna happen to me!’

Dipper vaguely wishes this was about murdering him. At least that’d be straightforward. How flirting works with humans is a mystery to Dipper, and he _is_ human! What’s he supposed to do here?

Ever since he met his demon, Dipper’s been sarcastic, and defiant.  Showing off how difficult he is to catch. Sometimes, Dipper starts a contest on purpose, because Bill reads people well enough to tell when it’s Dipper being, well, Dipper _-_ and when it’s intentional. It’s. Kind of fun, watching Bill realize - and suddenly snap into delighted, eager attention.

These guys aren’t great at reading humans.

And Dipper’s never learned how to turn demons _off_.

He settles back against the bar, and listens to the ominous clinking behind him. Great. Just… great. He claps a hand over his eyes, drawing it down over his face.

This is survivable. Disgusting, awkward, and violent, but survivable.

Bill’s been on ‘vacation’, and he let things get out of hand in his absence. It was a dumb decision on his part. He should’ve known better than to put things off.

...Dipper’s been putting some things off, too.

Hanging around with Bill, in reality, while he’s human-shaped and attempts - somewhat - to blend in - Dipper didn’t ask. About so many things. He didn’t _want_ to know, because it’d been so _easy_ to pretend like things were somewhere near normal if he didn’t.

Like he’d married a - an insulting, insane, playful, intelligent guy, who’s a jerk, but a human jerk. Not an evil triangular being from another dimension, who’s way too powerful, way too influential, who has a totally different perspective on right versus wrong - who probably plays with human souls like they’re trading cards, and sees nothing off about it.

Avoiding stuff isn’t going to work anymore. Owning up to it’s the only option, and this party is going south, fast.

They work together well, and they need to be on the same page, to recover. He’ll work his way through this problem, first. Uncomfortable, sure, but it shouldn’t take much longer until his demon’s done with whatever he’s dealing with. Then, though it sucks -

Dipper thinks he and Bill should - he cringes -  _Talk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest challenge Bill and Dipper have ever faced: 
> 
>  
> 
> _Sincere conversation._


	6. Chapter 6

Dipper glares into the weird, opaque blue drink Bill sort-of bought him. Of all the ones he could choose from, this is the only one he’s _kind of_ accepted.

Not that he’s going to drink it. It’s probably disgusting.

All around him, there’s groaning, and swears. And, finally, demons avoiding him.

No wonder Bill’s go-to move was attack. These creatures don’t take hints, manipulation would fall flat on its face. Getting across that he’s _not interested_ has been a literally painful experience, and the solitary fact that makes it okay is that Dipper’s not the one hurting.

Hell, he’s not great at this kind of social thing, anyway. Anywhere. He’s already married, and he’s _still_ never been on a date.

Dipper can make friends! He’s got _great_ friends. But he’d never had _anyone_ try to kiss him before. He’d hit his sweet sixteen with a score of zero to Mabel’s eight, and that was terrible, because she never even tried to hold that over his head. Whenever anything might have come close, or seemed like it - Dipper fumbled and dropped the ball.

He was eighteen, and not a people person. A weird, awkward nerd. Not attractive. Sometimes you have to play the hand you’re dealt. And that was alright, he could live with that. Honestly, he really could. Dipper was going to go on with his life with nobody interested.

Right up until he found someone who _was_ interested.Dipper rubs at the bridge of his nose, frowning hard, eyes shut.

And that someone is completely insane.

This party explains everything.

Dipper is attractive. _Immensely_ attractive. Under certain circumstances.

Why did it have to be for _demons_? And how did he ever, _ever_ think it was a good idea to go somewhere he’d be surrounded by them?

Fuck, this was _Bill’s_ idea. That alone should have warned him.

This party _sucks_.

There’s a shadow, as someone approaches. They’re right in front of him. But there weren’t any footsteps. Or feet. Probably means it’s geometry -

Dipper squeezes his eyes shut tighter, taking in a slow breath. “Your angles are uneven.” 

The shape looks absolutely appalled. It pats over its corners for a second - then just gives Dipper one of the most offended glares he’s ever seen before floating away in a huff.

Now that’s a strong reaction. Dipper raises an eyebrow.

Kind of interesting, he makes a mental note. Don’t use that insult on Bill, unless he’s _really_ being an ass.

“That was _nasty_.” There’s a murmur of amusement to Dipper’s right. 

Along with awful suitors, he has an awful _audience_. The few demons who haven’t shown any interest in Dipper? Have shown a _lot_ in stealing his drinks.

Maybe he should stop them, say something - but he doesn’t care enough to try. Besides. Chasing them off means more violence, and at least _these_ creatures haven’t tried to hit on him.

Dipper ignores them, and stares back into his stupid blue drink.  He is so, so tired.

Sooner or later this will end, because Bill’s going to come back, soon. He almost can’t _wait_ for Bill to return, and that feeling is a first, during all the time he’s spent with his jerk.

“Hey! Hey,” One of the scavengers is slumped over the bar, squinting as it tries to bring things into focus, and whispers - in the perfectly audible way the truly drunk achieve - “What’s _Cipher_ gonna pull?”

There’s a long, contemplative pause among the group.

Dipper shifts in place.

He, maybe, kind of, burned a lot of people. And whoever he didn’t physically attack, he insulted. And he wouldn’t have had to do any of that if he hadn’t accidentally hit on everyone. What a dumb move. He can’t believe-

Dipper crosses his legs, and his arms, and when he turns his attention inward, feeling around - Bill _is_ going to be back in a second. Approaching quickly, from wherever he was in the weird dimensions of this place.

Hopefully, Bill will find this funny. Chaos is interesting to him, so. Dipper will probably get away with it. It was _one_ slip-up, that’s it, he didn’t follow through with his quote-unquote... _invitation_.

Dipper’s had to fend off some really gross things he _hopes_ were limbs. Been offered some things he’s never even _heard_ Bill talk about. Most were physically improbable, the rest were -

He’s going to try to forget he ever heard them.

 _Bill’s_ the one who took off, and _he’s_ the one who dragged Dipper into this. If he’s pissed, then...

Fuck Bill. Dipper doesn’t care.

Dipper could be at home right now, sitting in a comfy chair and watching TV. Instead, he’s at some creepy semi-deadly party, where people are assuming all kinds of things. He never wanted this, he hates being here, he wants to leave. And if Bill’s plan isn’t _going_ to plan, that’s - mostly - _not Dipper’s fault._

A ripple moves through the crowd. Almost silent. Dipper looks up.

Bill.

He raises an eyebrow at the scavengers, and glances casually around the scene. People licking their wounds, sometimes literally. The spread of drinks along the bar covers too much space for anyone to ignore. 

Bill's eyebrow goes up.

Well, this is a disaster.

Dipper can’t tell precisely what Bill’s thinking. Even though he’s great at reading his demon, the details rarely show, because Bill’s too good at hiding things. No matter how Dipper reads this, though - 

That is a definite, annoyed, ‘you did something, didn’tcha.‘

Fine. He did do something. But he didn’t _mean_ it. Dipper still braces himself for impact. Sitting up straighter. He can handle anything Bill throws at him.

Then Bill stretches out his arms, fingers laced together. He cracks his knuckles with a grin.

“Pft, amateurs.” His grin widens as he stalks forward. “You idiots never stood a chance." With an almost casual motion, Bill brushes an arm over the bar. Drinks shatter, glasses and tumble everywhere.

Bill settles on the stool next to Dipper, looking pleased.

Dipper leans back, fingers tight around the stem of his drink, and glares at his absolute jackass husband, who thinks he’s going to get away with this.

“Hey there, kid,” Starts Bill, leaning in closer, grinning evilly. “How’re you doing?”

Dipper’s eye twitches. His own, personal jerk, right here. Up in his space. In the same way all these other demons have been getting up in his space. Bill, making his own approach, thinking that just because they’re already together, he can get away with anything. Like he's immune to any consequences, like Dipper can't just-

Toss his drink right in Bill’s face.

Watching his demon splutter, blinking and shaking his head -

For the first time since they came here, Dipper genuinely smiles.

Thwarted is a good look for Bill. Dipper should do this more often.

“I don’t know what made you think you’d do better than the others.” He watches Bill wipe his face clean, eye glaring. “I hate you the _most_.”

If Bill wants Dipper to be Dipper? He’s going to get it. And that comes with _every single_ annoying bit Bill’s ever complained about. He can’t go back on it, now, and tell Dipper to do something different. That means...

Dipper can do whatever he _wants_. It’s empowering.

There’s a drop of blue liquid dripping from Bill’s chin. He wipes it off, meets Dipper’s glare. Now, he’s grinning. “Is that so? Because," He raises an eyebrow. "Not feeling all that much hate, from you, kid. Try a little harder.”

Dipper tosses away his empty glass, feeling disappointed.

Alright, fine. Bill always takes things in stride, he wasn't thrown by that, not beyond a second’s pause. There’s got to be another way to bother this jerk = He slaps a hand over Bill’s mouth before he can lean in any closer.

“Like _hell_ I don’t hate you. You’re the worst, Bill. _Ever_.” He waves a little with his free hand. “For always.” Because Bill is, and he needs to know it. “You’re…” Dipper searches for a word, a phrase- “Nobody could _ever_ be as big of a pain in the ass as you are.”

There’s a low, pleased hum against Dipper’s palm. Bill’s eye has literally lit up, glowing gold.

Oh, _hell_. The _flirting_.

Dipper’s still doing it, and even harder than he did with everyone else. This had better not be some kind of show.

But knowing Bill, it _is_ , and he led Dipper right into it.

_Damn it._

Bill’s always tempted Dipper into dumb arguments - into their _flirting_ \- because he loves the attention, and the challenge. Of course he’d never want Dipper to stop. Daring demons is a reflex for Dipper at this point. Bill encouraged it, and now it's a habit Dipper couldn’t break if he wanted to.

Dipper glares at the crowd around them. With Bill nearby, they won’t approach - but they’re weirdly fascinated with Dipper. Probably because he’s not dead yet, and he’s still sassing Bill. Nobody else here has gotten away with even a quarter of what Dipper’s pulled, and he’s not sure why -

Why _anything_. How do things _work_ here?

Damn it, they _have_ to talk. Too many eyes on them here, this isn’t the place for it.

Bill draws Dipper’s hand closer with a careful grip on his wrist, beaming at him. “Being stubborn, huh?” His thumb runs over Dipper’s pulse. “Listen up kid, ‘cause I got something you might be interested in.”

He sighs, staring at his idiot husband. “Let me guess.” His voice comes out flat. “It’s in your pants.”

“Boy, someone’s mind went straight into the gutter,” Bill tuts softly, shaking his head. He starts undoing the buttons of his shirt. “But if that’s your deal, go ahead! Feel around!” He pulls Dipper’s hand closer, sliding it into the loose gap of his shirt, and over his skin.

Bill feels… unfortunately nice, as usual. Dipper can feel the slow, subtle beat of that unnatural heart.

 _Being_ groped is a demonic advance. Not being encouraged _to_ grope. And... Bill’s nothing like the body he’s inhabiting. It’s pleasant to touch anyway. Probably because the universe wants to spite Dipper. What a manipulative -

He glares. “Okay, that’s cheating.”

“All’s fair in lust and war!” Bill beams, holding his hands up innocently. “Wanna hear my sales pitch or not?”

Dipper gives Bill the most unimpressed look he can. “You have _nothing_ I want.”

Bill could offer him anything. Possibly, everything. Definitely he’s tried to convince Dipper to go along with his plans, by offering whatever he could think of. None of it worked, and none of it’s working now. Everything Dipper could want from Bill has already been handed over. His power, access to his realm, his unhelpful advice, his extremely annoying company-

Bill glances pointedly down, clears his throat, then meets Dipper’s eyes with a grin.

Dipper yanks his hand back from Bill’s chest so fast he almost hits himself in the face. Why didn’t he stop touching _sooner_.

Fine. They’re in a relationship. But if Bill didn’t have this body. A form that’s far too interesting, that’s more attractive than it should be. Maybe Dipper wouldn’t have - Dipper _isn’t_ shallow. But the body, in a lot of ways, _helped_.

But he knows Bill’s not happy about being trapped in that thing. This isn’t right for Bill, or normal. Not comfortable. How does being in that thing affect him? He hasn’t said crap about it, and likely never will. Hell, Bill doesn’t complain about pain, ever, either. For all Dipper knows, Bill-

Dipper shakes his head to clear it, and focus.

He won’t let Bill win him over. In some ways, Bill already has - but he won’t make it easy. Dipper folds his arms.

“What else have you got?”

Bill’s snort of amusement is the best response, because it means things are working. Bickering is flirting, and strange as it is - it makes some kind of very odd sense.

He could have tried harder to get rid of Bill. Dipper _told_ himself he’d do it. He _swore_ he’d do it. Every time Bill pulled some bullshit, Dipper drew himself up, full of conviction, and -

Paused. Relented, each and every time. Told himself, ‘maybe later.’

He’s threatened Bill with everything he could think of, thrown insults at him.For all that he complained, and argued, and fought - At the end of the day... he never followed through on the worst bits.

It’s why Dipper never turned Bill off, or irritated him too much. He’s never come across as _serious_. And Bill _knew_ it was a game, and never crossed any of _Dipper's_ lines, either.

Dipper doesn’t, actually, hate Bill. Even though he should. 

That’s what got them into this whole, humiliating, fucked-up situation. This awful, bizarre marriage.

Now, Bill’s finally called him out on it.

The only surprising part is that it took him this long. 

Dipper's always been a failure. Failing at _hating_ someone’s new.  After everything Bill’s done, and even with everything Bill _is_... it’s too late to try for it now. He doesn’t know how to _stop_ this weird, fucked up game. But he can _keep_ doing it. Even before he knew what it meant, he managed to play it, and Bill got a kick out of that. And when he’s _intentionally_ playing along, Bill can’t resist.

…This time, he’ll let Bill ‘win’.

“You really think you can-” Dipper trails off as Bill leans in closer, eternal smile wide across his face. Dipper doesn’t back away, but it’s hard to get the words out. “Alright, fine. Go ahead and try.” He grabs Bill by his collar, pulling him closer, and his demon moves with it smoothly, grinning. “We should... take this somewhere else.”

There’s a quiet, delighted noise from Bill. His sharp teeth show broadly in his smile.

“Sure, why not?” Bill tugs Dipper forward, turns him around, away from the bar. His arm wraps around Dipper’s waist, hand resting _just_ short of inappropriately low. “I know just the place.”

“You’re not getting _anything_ from me.”

Dipper walks with his demon, hand gripping Bill’s jacket, trying to look casual even when Bill chuckles at that statement. There’s so many eyes on them, and they all think the same thing...

Bill’s not helping. Again. With that smug look on his face, as he waggles his fingers at the crowd. Dipper swears, very quietly.

Whatever these demons think - he knows what they think - it doesn’t matter. This gets them alone. That was the goal. He feels Bill’s hand trying to creep lower - and he elbows his demon in the ribs, hard. They have to sort this out, before everything goes to hell.

The sudden slam of the door closing behind them sends a shock down Dipper’s spine.

That wasn’t there before -

Dipper grunts, back colliding with a wall - reaches and grips onto Bill’s wrist, where it presses him against the suddenly closed door.

“So! I’m giving this, say,” Bill says, his eye looks up, humming as he thinks. “About a billion to one odds this is _actually_ for a quickie.” One eyebrow goes up. “You’re not really the type, sapling.”

Dipper swears quietly.

It’s _true_ , it’s not, but that was fast. He’d thought he’d have time before Bill noticed.

“Well,” Bill pulls back. He runs his gaze over Dipper slowly, head tilting. “But if it _was_ , I wouldn’t be complaining.” His grin is downright lecherous. Dipper kicks his stupid demon in the shin until that grin of his drops off his face, and Bill hops back, arms raised.

“Alright, fine, first guess was the best,” Bill mutters, and stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking disappointed. “You wanted us away from everyone? You got it! This had better be good.”

Dipper sucks in a sharp breath.

This was. Okay, not the best idea. Effective, but -

“Why are we _doing_ this?” Dipper hisses. He waves at his demon incredulously. Bill frowns, looking confused, as Dipper gestures and completely fails to get any meaning across. “You…”

“Hey, hey, everything’s going great!” Bill lifts his hands up, almost placating. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got it all in hand.”

“Bill, did you honestly expect me to believe this was. What. _Straightforward_?” He grabs onto Bill’s collar. “What's going on?”

There’s another game going on at this party, beyond the surface level. Bill’s got a gamble going, and it’s him versus everyone. And whatever the fallout is, Dipper’ll be stuck dealing with it, too, and they do _not_ have the best track record with things going to plan.

Dipper doesn’t know what’s going on, not fully. But Bill does.

“C’mon, sapling, you’re not slow on the uptake! I’ve been away a while, and some of these idiots thought that meant there was space at the top! I had to let ‘em all know that was a dumb move!” He waves the idea away, and grins, moving in closer. “I’ve just been busy doing something better!”

“You’re about to call me ‘something better’,” Dipper says. Bill’s face falls, as his joke is ruined. One point for Dipper, he almost smiles. But there’s another point here, and he has to make it. “ _Why am I here_?”

There’s some reason he’s got to be with Bill, while he takes back control. Bill’s powerful enough to do that by himself, he doesn't need a sidekick. He could kick every other being here from one side of this dimension to another, he doesn't lack power.

Only he brought this one young human along with him, and that makes no sense. Dipper’s not an asset. He’s a hindrance, at best, and for some reason Bill wants him here anyway.

There’s another motive, Dipper’s sure. There’s some reason that Bill - intelligent, powerful, and completely unhinged as he is -

Wants Dipper.

Obviously Bill’s not alone, _that_ got proven rapidly. Hell, maybe it’s because these creatures are unhinged. Figures that the only reason to want Dipper would be insanity.

“Well-” Bill starts.

“Don’t. Lie. ” Dipper interrupts, tone flat. The way Bill told him things. Instructed him, lectured him, even made him wear this suit, he was so _meticulous_ about it looking good - and the surprise, when things caught Bill off guard. He saw it, just a few minutes ago. “I can tell when you’re lying. It won’t work.”

Bill shrugs it off. “Alright, maybe this didn’t start out great. Everything’s under control now, kid! Take it easy!.”

Dipper just stares. Bill’s put on his innocent look. Dipper breathes in slow, and lets it out again. His hands tighten on Bill’s shirt.

Bill said he was the best demon, once. That Dipper won’t want anyone taking his spot, and of course he _would_ say that. Dipper almost rolled his eyes at the time, because there wasn’t proof. There was no reason to believe it, ever. Bill lies all the time, it was a reasonable assumption.

This is one of the fucked up times that Bill was _right_.

Dipper really _doesn’t_ want any other demon moving into the Fearamid, or taking charge. In a sea of awful options, Bill’s simultaneously the best, and the worst. He’s supremely powerful. Dangerous as hell. If it weren’t for their deal, that protected the world, anyone other than Bill would be the better option. All other demons are way, way easier to handle, or fool, or distract. Everyone else _really is_ stupid, and gross.

But Bill’s promised - hell, signed a contract - to not touch the world, and he’s smart enough to know humans. He knows when his weirdness crosses some kind of line.

Between that and their deal, Bill's tolerably terrible.

Everyone else just _sucks_.

“Bill. Cipher.” Dipper hisses, and shakes his stupid awful demon by his meticulous, awful lapels. “For once. For like, for the only time ever - and this _is_ going to be the only time -” 

Bill doesn’t resist his mistreatment, he only looks vaguely confused, stays silent.

“You _need_ to tell me what’s going on,” Dipper says, finally, letting go of Bill’s shirt. He places a hand on his gross, horrible, accidental husband’s chest. “Because, I.” It hurts to admit it. Getting the words out is hard.

“You what.” Bill asks, flat, eye narrow.

Dipper blurts it out, from sheer frustration, isn’t Bill supposed to be _smart_? “For - Dammit, Bill, I’m trying to _help_ you.”

Bill stares.

“So. I know that we’re-” Dipper can’t find a way to say it. Constantly fighting. Always at odds. Bill wants so many things that Dipper can’t tolerate, and Bill barely tolerates the things Dipper wants in return. They _never_ agree, it’s absurd.

Dipper meets his stupid husband’s eye again. “I know we don’t- but you're.” He struggles with himself. Then he reaches up, resting a hand on Bill’s cheek. “Can’t we just… screw _everyone else_ over for once?”

Bill keeps staring. His pupil is very wide.

Dipper has no idea what that means. He’s not letting go, anyway.

They stand there. For a while. There’s a moment, where Dipper thinks maybe he’s overstepped something -

Then Bill’s awful face splits wide in a smile. Within seconds, it’s a full on grin.

Obviously he’s made a decision.

Bill reaches in, and Dipper squirms a little as Bill’s hands cup his face. This is weird, and. Not bad, but still _weird_ \- “Hey, sapling,” Bill wiggles his eyebrows. “You know my favorite thing about you?”

“I don’t know?” Dipper responds, confused. That’s the weirdest thing Bill’s ever asked. It’s probably a trick. He narrows his eyes. “It’s because I’m the only person that’d ever sleep with you.”

Bill rolls his eye. “Yeah, sure, let’s go with that,” He mutters, and pulls Dipper close. Dipper starts, backs off -

But when Bill kisses him, he lets it happen. They’re already in the middle of a lot of trouble. Exactly what kind of trouble, Bill hasn’t said. But they can take a moment.

It’s. Nice.

Bill pulls back, giving Dipper a gentle smack on the cheek, grinning. “Alright, sapling, you’re on board. So here’s the deal.”

Dipper raises an eyebrow. He has to ask. “What’s your _real_ favorite part of me?”

“Who says I have one?” Bill asks, eye wide, and innocent. “Forget that junk, because this-” He jabs Dipper sharply in the chest, eye narrowing. “Is our main problem.”

“Me?” Dipper pats his chest, and frowns. He straightens up indignant. If this asshole thinks-

“Our  _bond_ , you nerd. The life one,” Bill turns slightly away, rubbing at his forehead. “Do you have any idea how many times this kinda crap has happened?”

“Uh,” Weird demonic power, and life bonds. The power they share. The weird, accidental compatibility. Dipper hazards a guess. “Six?”

Bill narrows his eye. “Try ‘zero.’ Ever.”

"I. Didn't know that." Dipper shifts from foot to foot.

“Great! Now you do! This bond’s a freakin’ first. In eternity.” Bill gestures vaguely between them both. “No _way_ anyone could tell how this was gonna come across. So!” Bill claps his hands together, grinning with absolutely no humor. “Turns out _you’re_ oozing power - you’re welcome, by the way,” He adds, dryly. “While _I_ get the honor of looking full of _Life_.”

Dipper straightens up.

He might have been appealing as a mortal. He _must_ be, Bill got interested. PBut he’s got Bill’s power behind him, he’s had it for ages now. Long enough to soak in, bone deep. Power's an aphrodisiac to humans, in a way. How compelling it must be to demons is something Dipper can’t imagine. It's coming from Bill, too, who's... _Bill_.

That explains a lot.

Only...Their bond goes _both_ ways.

Dipper looks over the shape of his demon. A demon who should _be_ a shape, and cringes.

“How bad is it?”

There’s a long moment where he thinks Bill won’t respond. He clenches his jaw, growling softly, eye shut.

“Any would be terrible!” Bill’s glaring, like Dipper’s the biggest pain in the ass since forever. “This stupid bond’d be messed up all by itself. But the body takes the whole pile of bullshit a step further.” He rubs at his eye. “I’m a little _outta shape_ here, sapling, like ya said. There’s gotta be a _reason_ I’m not changing back.”

“Oh,” Dipper says softly, but with real feeling. And a sudden, growing worry.

Bill could wander away whenever. He could take a vacation, anytime. A reason would be nice, but he wouldn’t need one. If Bill Cipher wants to go somewhere, and do something, who the hell would question it? Bill does whatever he wants.

Only... He wandered off, and he came back in this shape.

And if Dipper seems demonic. Not entirely human. Then Bill smells - only slightly - like something new, and fresh, and living. Full of life, and potential. No matter how small it is - obviously Bill was hoping it wouldn’t show all.

“ _I_ am _immortal_ ,” Bill says, with a slight smirk. He can’t see Dipper’s mind, but he can tell that Dipper’s caught on. He jabs a thumb at himself, looking about as frustrated as Dipper’s ever seen him. “This stupid, fleshy life-trap is coming across bad.”

“But that’s-”

Not true, at all. Dipper’s seen it. Killing Bill doesn’t _work_. It’d be stupid to try, especially in the Mindscape.

Bill’d still be right where he was - though significantly more equilateral - and then he’d be _pissed_.

“ _They_ don’t know that!” Bill slaps a hand over his face. “The whole thing’s a good excuse for someone to try something _cute_ , and we both know where that leaves me.”

“Yeah, I know-” Dipper stops. He blinks.

When Bill’s body doesn’t work, when it’s too damaged, when it ‘dies’.

Bill hums softly in approval. He ruffles Dipper’s hair. “Now you’re getting the picture!” He rubs a thumb over Dipper’s temple, cocking his head to one side. “Always quick on the uptake, Pine Tree. Gotta say I like it.”

Dipper rests his face in his hands.

This whole stupid situation is clear now.

Why Bill’s done so many of the things he’s done. Why he’s acted like he has. It’s why Bill didn’t make things clear to everyone. Why he was so vague about what Dipper was to him.

He _couldn’t_ make things clear. With this bond, even _Bill_ wasn’t sure what it’d look like to other demons. Instead of saying it was one thing, and having it look like something completely different, he made it a _game_. He was hedging his bets.

Bill prides himself on his lies. He wouldn’t want them to be _obvious_.

Bill’s the insurmountable, unconquerable lord of nightmares.  Nobody’s a match for him, he’s the head honcho, completely in control. Nothing can stop him.

Except if he’s encased in _physical flesh_. Bill can take a body, but he gets kicked out the second that it fails him.

Bill’s in a body, at the moment. One that’s weird as hell. Bill Cipher’s not killable, truly.

But right now he _looks_ like it.

That makes him the single most desirable target to take out in this entire freakin’ realm. Probably the only reason most demons haven’t tried yet is because Bill’s still scary as hell. ...Which would explain the explosions, earlier. Bill took the chance to take out likely opportunists. Reinforce the fact that facing him is a _bad idea_.

Bill’s covering his bases, because if someone ‘succeeded’... Chained to a body he has no business being in. Trapped by a mortal life, immovable.

He’d be caught with his metaphysical pants down.

There’s a freaking _audience_ , too, to see the whole thing go down. Even _Bill_ couldn’t lie his way out of that embarrassment.

The whole stupid party crashing - like many things - is all about Bill’s pride.

Dipper sighs, heavily. His shoulders slump, and he rubs at his eyes. Figures that all of this, everything, would be about that. “Nobody’s going to take out your body, Bill.” He mutters. “You’re too powerful.”

“They’d have to be incredibly lucky to manage it! But you’d better freaking hope they don’t,” Bill agrees, smirking. “‘Cause by our contract, you gotta _fix_ this, and this ain’t exactly the place where you’d find that fun to pull off.” Bill says lightly, and shrugs. “Eh, win or lose, either way I’d get outta that mess.”

Dipper looks up.

Bill looks nonchalant, smiling blithely. Easy for _him_ to smile. _He’s_ going to be okay, no matter what, beyond some possible embarrassment.

The only trouble Bill’s in is because of his human body, and there’s a quick, simple solution. Within _seconds_ Bill could have his problem…. Fixed. Most of this crowd would be thrilled to solve a problem for Bill Cipher, if it meant gaining his favor.

That’d be so much easier. It’d mean freedom, from this apparently gross body. It’d mean no more dealing with one really annoying human. Zero risk of embarrassment. All demonic reason makes the quick solution the _best_  solution.

Bill’s not taking that route.

He's taking the _risk_ , instead, and it's a big one. Survivable, certainly, but the quiet mockery would probably last for _decades_.

Even though he’d only lose one, small, mortal thing, solving this.

Dipper straightens up, clears his throat.

Even if it _is_ good ammunition, it’s too ambiguous to get Bill in a corner. Bill always has half a dozen reasons behind everything he does, backup plans for everything.

It _can’t_ be _that_ simple.

Dipper files it away, anyway.

Some part of Bill, deep inside, feels something that it shouldn’t. It’s been doing that for a while. A part of Bill's immense self-absorption has been redirected, has been _twisted_. Dipper has a strong, solid suspicion, and tons of proof. He’s _going_ to prove it. He just needs enough evidence. So much that even Bill Cipher can’t wriggle his way out of things.

This piece of information will have its place, when he finally confronts Bill about. Everything.

Now’s not the right time, though. Later.

Meanwhile, Bill rubs his hands together and grins. “Don’t worry, sapling, I got a hold of things!” He sounds cheerful. “Now that I got all the right info, and you got your start, it’s all smooth sailing from here.”

Dipper stares. ‘Smooth sailing’ and their relationship are only slightly less compatible than oil and water.

Bill rolls his eye, shrugs. “Okay, alright, fine. _Maybe_ there’ll be a few hiccups. But it’s your shitty luck that wrecks things, Pine Tree. My existence was _great_ until I met you.” Which is exactly what this asshole would say, blaming someone else.

But Dipper knows demons, sort of, now, and what means what.

When Bill spots Dipper smiling, he clears his throat, holding a fist to his mouth, and very deliberately turns away, so Dipper can’t see his face.

“In any case, I got a solution.” Bill says. It takes a second before he turns back to face Dipper, grinning. “And surprise! You’re not gonna like it.”

“Figures.” There was no way this party was going to be all fun and games, Dipper has resigned himself to it. “I’ll play along.”

Not like he has another choice. Maybe it won’t be too terrible. Bill knows humans, he knows Dipper - He’d know what would be _truly_ intolerable.

“Great!” Bill claps his hands together, then tucks an arm around Dipper’s shoulders and waves a hand. There’s a glimmer as something like a screen comes up - Dipper tilts his head, blinking in surprise.

“So! As far as all of those losers are concerned,” Bill says, and chuckles. “ _This_ is how things happened.”

Dipper watches, and listens.

There’s a show in front of him, like a tiny movie. The whole time, Bill rambles in his ear with demonic director’s commentary, while their readjusted story unfolds.

How they met. How things went on. Why he’s here, why Bill’s like this, why… _everything_.

The excuse Bill’s made is.

A complete pile of relentless, untrue, insulting, horrible bullshit.

It fits everything to a T, it accounts for all kinds of things, it's flexible, and creative, and Dipper hates Bill, so, so much.

“You’re right,” Dipper says, flatly, as the last images fade. “I don’t like it.”

“Oh yeah?” Bill jabs him in the side with a finger. “You got any better ideas, wise guy?”

Dipper takes in a breath, wanting to protest. And stops, thinking. Maybe - no, that wouldn’t - and the other wouldn’t - He tries to run through Bill’s excuse for flaws, thinking fast, but.

“No, I don’t,” Dipper admits. It’s still annoying.

“Hey! I’m doing all of the heavy lifting here! You got nothing to complain about!” Bill argues, and squeezes Dipper tight around the shoulders. “I’m handling all the explosions, excuses, exposition, and everything! All _you_ gotta do is be cute! Not like it’s hard for you! And,” Bill gives Dipper a glare. A serious one for once. “ _Don’t_ mess with the pile of bullcrap we’re feeding ‘em.”

“But-” Dipper starts. Then stops. This is so - He’s not sure he _can_ stop himself from saying anything. Not with what Bill has in mind. “Oh, come on, really?”

Bill lightens up, and pats Dipper on the cheek. “I’m not saying don’t _complain_ , kid! It’d be weird if you didn’t! But unless you got some real clever input, _don’t add details_. It’ll cramp my style.” Bill straightens up, looking dignified, adjusting his suit lapels. “You gotta learn to lie better before you can back me up on this kinda crap.”

“Who says I’ll ever back you up,” Dipper mutters.

The fact that he’s currently doing it doesn’t count. This is an unusual circumstance. It’s not going to happen again. Most of Bill’s plans are _evil_. Only this time, they’re messing with other evil beings, so. Morally, it cancels out.

“Oh, and one last thing,” Bill pulls Dipper in closer, beaming, choosing to ignore Dipper’s comment. “Let’s make this look legit before we get the ball rolling.”

“What are you- No.” Dipper tucks his head against his shoulder before Bill can get at his neck. Bill tries to nudge his face in anyway, and when he switches sides, so does Dipper, stopping him, chin against his shoulder. “Absolutely not.”

There’s a complaining hum as Bill draws back. “C’mon. One hickey, Pine Tree, everyone thinks we were fooling around! Otherwise,” He lifts his hands in the air, smiling. “Why’m I in this body?”

Dipper’s stomach twists. That’s the source of the problem. Isn’t it. The body.

It’s not right, for a demon. It’s not normal, or natural. It’s weird, it’s inhuman, it doesn’t obey most physical rules, which is probably the the only part of the thing Bill likes. It was _made_ for Bill, in a way, but it is, at its core, a _trap_.

Every freaking problem they’re facing here is because Dipper accidentally drew Bill into that form, because Bill can’t get _out_ of it.

Not without losing something else.

Bill makes a face. “Agh, gross.” He tilts his head, sticking out his tongue. “I’m not gonna kiss you when you look like you’re gonna puke, kid. That’s not a gamble I’m gonna take.”

Dipper doesn’t look like that! He starts to protest - fumbles for an insult, and blurts, “Does it hurt?”

He immediately realizes how ridiculous that question is, shuts his mouth, tight, and looks at the floor. Wow, black bricks, like almost everything here. Fascinating stuff.

“What?”

Dipper shouldn’t have - That was so stupid, he doesn’t know why he asked. “Nothing,” He slaps a hand over his eyes. “Have fun in that body, Bill. I bet it sucks.”

“Ha! You wish!” Bill says, brightly.

Dipper lowers his hand slightly, and peeks opens an eye.

Bill’s running his hands down his human chest. Almost admiringly. “This is hardly whips and chains here, kid! This flesh is like a,” Bill says, and tilts his hand side to side. “Big fluffy bathrobe. Real comfy!” He smiles - Then his lip curls up, annoyed. “But impractical as hell.”

“Okay,” Dipper says, softly. He stands up straighter, and clears his throat. He even manages to smile. “Sucks for you, Bill.”

This party is survivable, and that comes as something of a surprise. Dipper wasn’t entirely certain, even when Bill invited him to this thing. Especially since _Bill_ wasn’t invited to this thing. Now Bill’s usurped the whole party, taking it as his own, or - depending on the perspective - reclaimed what was his to begin with.

Something _else_ is Bill’s, too, and Dipper absolutely wishes it weren’t true. But it is, and that means he’s as safe as anything.

“Alright, I know what to do. Everyone else will be jealous,” Dipper says, finally. He watches Bill grin. “I’m not easy.”

“Oh please,” Bill scoffs, rolls his eye. Though he’s still holding onto Dipper, one hand on his shoulder, the other arm wrapping around his waist, pulling him in tight. “You’re super easy for m-”

A hand clapped over Bill’s mouth stops him from completing the word. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

There’s a way to play this, to make Bill look… not good, because nothing about it’s going to be great, for either of them. But it’ll explain things. Why Bill’s been gone. Why it took him this long. Why he’s here, why he’s connected with a mortal. Why he _reeks_ of life. And to do it -

Dipper's role is simple, and manageable. All he has to do is be _himself_ , Bill honestly _wasn't_ lying about that. Now that he knows their 'story' -

Dipper's glad he wrenched it out of his demon. There's not a lot of acting involved, but knowing where it's _going_ means he can match up with Bill's insane, arrogant bullshit. Instead of protesting, and knocking the whole delicate construction of total bullshit over, out of sheer surprise. 

“Shall we?” Bill holds his arm out to grab, grinning.

Time to face the music again. No point in delaying. “Might as well.” Dipper hooks his hand around his horrible husband’s elbow, and wishes he wasn't smiling - glaring is better, he gives Bill his worst one. It’s better for their plan, and besides. Bill deserves being glared at, forever.

Dipper mutters. “I’m going to make you pay for this.” Because if Dipper’s going to embarrass himself-

“I’ll _owe_ you one.” Bill says, very quiet, grumbling. He won’t meet Dipper’s eye. “So shut up.”

Dipper shuts up. 

Bill would like it if - He smiles, very slightly. “So. If it comes to it. Do I, uh…” What is appropriate. All of these beings are evil. They’ve probably done worse to other people, so anything goes, right? Is there an etiquette for this? “Burn them to ashes, or... rearrange their faces?”

“Aw, you know better, kid!” Bill says, waving, and the door that wasn’t there slides open again. He chucks Dipper gently under the chin with his free hand, as room unfolds and the crowd turns, staring at them. Bill continues, tone cheerful, and loud. “Mutilation’s all context-based! Loosen up, just have fun with it!”

Bill’s voice echoes through the room, and Dipper stares.

Watching a bunch of demons recoil is, Dipper has to admit, kind of cool. He tightens his grip on Bill’s arm, glancing around.

Radiating power, huh.

“Y’know, I…” Violence isn’t his first choice of entertaining himself. Not even here. He looks up at Bill, and his eternally smug, grinning face. “What was that about a drink?”

This time, he thinks he’s ready for it. Bill’s not going to intentionally poison him.

Besides, it’s a party. Dipper should at least try to enjoy some of this. Maybe.

“My pleasure, Pine Tree. Have whatever you want!” Bill says warmly, grinning wide. He rests his hand on Dipper’s, where it clings to his arm. “And I’ve saved the best seat in the house, just for you!” A spotlight snaps onto the throne on the dais.

Bill winks. “It’s in my lap.”

Dipper hits Bill in the side, but not hard, and listens to him laugh, echoing through the room. The other demons -

Screw them.

There’s him, and there’s Bill, and between the two of them, they both want the same thing. For Dipper to survive this, and for Bill to keep ruling everything. Nobody else matters, unless they need to fool them, or mock them, or wreck their day, if they're dumb enough to try and mess with either Bill or himself.

They stride forward through the crowd, and Bill’s talking about something -

Dipper doesn't listen. He's thinking, Frowning, even.

There's nothing to worry about. Right?

They have a plan, everything's in control. There's nothing to be concerned about, nothing could happen to either of them, except for.

 _Bill._  

And that’s. Overthinking, like Bill always complains about. Bill’s not in any place to be in danger. It's a ridiculous thought.

Only.

Bill’s still arrogant as hell, and doesn’t see some things coming. They wouldn’t be _together_  if he saw everything coming. Bill Cipher is insurmountable in so many aspects. Maybe he's smarter, and stronger, and more clever. More _everything_ , for most of the important traits. 

Maybe Bill has the advantage on everything else. 

Dipper is absolutely certain that _he_ has all of the _common sense._

Something here might go wrong, and Bill’s a loudmouthed arrogant jerkhole who isn't going to be keeping his single eye out for it. He assumes everything's going to be _great_.

But  _this_ time Dipper thinks that maybe. If he says something. Even if it _is_ just him being paranoid, at the time, that Bill might _actually_ listen to him.

Dipper deliberately doesn’t look at his demon’s face before he leans his head against Bill’s shoulder. 

Being on the same page is so strange it feels almost new. 

He’s not letting this chance go to waste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang, I'm slow at updating! I blame... lack of time. And the fact that I couldn't settle on how part of this chapter worked out for like, three months. Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This isn't dead. I'm just shitty at writing.

“Absolutely not.” Dipper folds his arms. ”Not in a million years.”

Bill settles back on his throne with a smile, ignoring the throng of demons around him. “Really? Million’s a little bit longer than your lifespan.” He says, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m way older. I’ll wear you down.”

One of the demons leans on the arm of Bill’s throne to catch his attention. There’s a bright burst of fire. Ash drifts through the air. The rest of the crowd backs up a few paces.

And Dipper grimaces.

Bill’s chatted with a few other demons, joked around with a couple. Talked with some that Dipper couldn’t quite call friends, because he’s not sure demons have those. Bill even settled some business that had him clasping his hands over Dipper’s ears before he’d start talking about it.

But the second people got boring, Bill’s attention shifted to the closest, most entertaining target.

Who isn’t cooperating. Which Bill finds  _more_ entertaining.

“I’m _not_ sitting in your lap.” Dipper insists. Demon marriage or not, demon deal or not, he has some dignity remaining, and he’s holding onto it tight. “And you can’t make me.”

“Is that so.” Bill narrows his eye.

“You know I'm right.”

Stupid Bill. Thinking he can do anything. Mostly, that’s true. But not to _Dipper_. Their bond means Bill can’t harm him.

“Funny you should say that,” Bill says, lightly. He examines his nails.

“What?”

The floor of the Fearamid gapes open under Dipper’s feet. He falls, lands with a grunt. He winces, looking up out of the pit he’s been dropped into. He rubs at his thigh, starting to stand.

The bricks shift and flow, turning into a different shape. Dipper scrambles, loses what little footing he had, falls again. He’s being lifted on a black, red-lined palm as it rises. The hand tilts, dropping him - then catching him around the waist.

Oh hell.

All those gestures Bill’s making aren’t a coincidence. He’s smirking, too.

Dipper swears as the brick hand drags him towards Bill. He can only struggle. Tugging at the fingers of the fist, kicking his legs in the air, but he can’t do anything against stone. His stupid demon can literally control the Mindscape, why didn’t he think of that sooner.

He’s dropped, unceremoniously, right into his demon’s lap.

“Well hello there!” Bill says, delighted, spreading his arms wide. “What a surprise this is! Nice of you to finally join me!”

Dipper slumps in place. “That wasn’t fair.”

“Ahem,” Bill clears his throat, tucking an arm around Dipper’s waist. “All’s fair in lust and war, sapling, and we’ve got both of those going.”

“I wish you were murderable.”

“Don’t be so pouty, sapling! Lemme make it up to you,” Bill says, pushing another glass into Dipper’s hand. “Here! Free of charge!”

Dipper glances down at the new drink, then up at his idiot husband. He’s grinning like this small gesture makes up for him being… Bill.

This is what he signed up for. Might as well roll with it.

“Here’s to never having to do this again,” Dipper says, and clinks his glass against Bill’s. “You’re not getting away with that a second time.”

“Take it easy, Pine Tree. When I’ve got a captive audience, I gotta entertain.” Bill waves his hand to his right.

Where Pyronica smiles, awkward and crooked. The other henchmen give… what Dipper’s pretty sure constitutes applause, even when some of them don’t have hands.

“Great,” Dipper says flatly. He watches Bill take a swig of his own drink.

Bill, apparently, has henchmen. Ones he’s slightly - but weirdly, _only_ slightly - pissed off at. The stolen party pissed Bill off, but there’s a scant few demons who are getting a minor pass on their ‘betrayal’.

Dipper was confused until he realized.

Of course no demon would come to Bill’s side if he was in trouble. That’s not how demons _work_. Loyalty doesn’t exist here. Seeing weakness means _attack_ , not assist. The only thing any demon cares about is power.

Now that Bill is once again ascendant, they’ve come back into the fold.

If Bill was anyone but himself, Dipper doubts they’d have shown up.

The henchmen are far from human. Pyronica is pink - and Dipper’s used to pink, he’s known Mabel his entire life, but every single other one is even weirder than _Bill’s_ true form.

Also, the diagonal demon has been staring at Dipper.

A lot.

His- Her- Their? Single eye is wide, it keeps trailing over Dipper. Something about it makes him want to hold a hand over his forehead.

Dipper throws an arm over Bill’s shoulders, and discreetly chucks the rest of his new drink away. Somewhere, glass shatters. Bill’s already halfway ‘round the bend, and that leaves Dipper to be the designated driver.

“Aww, someone’s grumpy,” Bill cups his hands on Dipper’s cheeks, his face slightly flushed with the twelve margaritas he has in his system. He hiccups, then recovers. “Don’t pout, sapling.”

Dipper closes his eyes, and accepts the manhandling. Only because there’s no reasonable way to stop it. Drunk Bill is handsy, and Dipper’s supposed to be _affectionate_. Not resisting probably counts.

There’s a weak laugh that sounds like it's Pyronica. Someone else clears their throat.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Says a nasally voice. Bill pauses in the middle of pinching Dipper’s cheeks. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m entertaining myself.” Bill says, very dry. He turns his head. “What does it look like?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Since you guys are determined to be about as fun as wet socks,” Bill lets Dipper go, and rounds fully on his henchmen. “I’m gonna play with my new playthin-”

Dipper slaps him on the back of the head.

“My new mortal,” Bill continues, as if he was never interrupted. He narrows his eye. “You gotta problem with that?”

The diagonal demon laughs. Some of the other henchmen look confused. “Okay, okay,” It pats the air in front of itself, placating. “I get it, Bill, but like. How much did you pay for that?”

Bill starts glaring. Dipper’s not sure why. 

Then the henchman _keeps talking_. It rubs the back of its top corner, almost embarrassed. It looks at Dipper.  “So, uh. When’re you free?”

It takes a second before it hits.

That question wasn’t for Bill.

Dipper reels back. “Wait, wait.” He pauses. “Wait.” He and Bill have a story. A false, fake story, and it’s also the best explanation they have on hand. This isn’t one of its parts.

But it _can_ adapt.

Dipper turns. He gives Bill a glare. “I could be getting _paid_ for this?”

Bill blinks. A second later, he smiles, “Ah-ah-ah, no.” He wags a finger in the air. “Our deal is done, kid. We already shook on it.”

Bill has a fully constructed city of pure bullshit, effortlessly rebuilt. Nothing throws him off for more than a moment. It’s impressive.

Someone unethical might even think it’s _amazing_.

“Pine Tree, you got your payment in full, and it was way,” Bill draws out the word. “More than you shoulda got. What do you have to complain about?”

“I don’t know.” Dipper shrugs. “Everything about you?”

Bill beams. He pinches Dipper’s cheeks again. “Complain away, kid, ‘cause I know exactly why you’re wrong.”

Dipper thinks he sees one of the henchman make a vague gagging gesture. Even the one that looks like a loaf of bread looks like it’s rolling the eyes it doesn't have.

While all of the henchman look curious, it’s Pyronica who leans in to ask. She rests an elbow on the top corner of Bill’s throne. “What _did_ you pay, Bill?”

“Oh, you know,” Bill says, letting go of Dipper’s face. He shrugs, lifts his hands. “Not touching Stanford Pines, some other stuff. Nothing big.”

Dipper expected a reaction to whatever Bill’s made-up ‘price’ was.

He didn’t expect this one.

The henchmen recoil. Those who have eyes see them widen. They must know Ford’s history with Bill.Those oddly shaped faces looked shocked.

And a ripple runs through the crowd. Indistinct, but present. Hushed mutters, quiet discussions, a rumor, spreading.

Dipper straightens up in Bill’s lap.

And he feels hugely, indescribably proud.

Ford is like, a _legend_ amongst demons, and it’s. Maybe it’s not just because of _Bill_.

Ford’s just that cool and that powerful, and yeah, Dipper always knew he was, but this is _proof_. The first thing he needs to do, back in reality, is tell Ford about...

Part of this. Not all of it.

Anything involving Bill is still a touchy subject.

“Honestly guys, I’m real disappointed in you,” Bill states, shaking his head. “I gave you a chance to play a game, and not even one of you guessed right! See,” He puffs out his chest in a way that’s completely unwarranted. “I didn’t buy this mortal. I _won_ him. And yeah, alright,” He says, slightly annoyed. “It took a little more than I’d’ve liked.”

Then Bill lifts his chin with pride. “But at the end of the day, I friggin’  _won_ this guy. Not one of _you_ assholes managed to. Even when I wasn’t around to supervise!”

Dipper rubs his eyes. He did withstand things. Figures that that test was important.

Bill still sounds way too smug.

Maybe because he ‘won’. Maybe because he’s drunk. Maybe because Dipper’s actually, _maybe_ , something worth going through this all this trouble for. But most likely, it’s because Bill’s _finally_ going to get to reveal his bullshit story, and solve ninety percent of his stupid demonic problem.

All at the minor cost of one mortal’s dignity.

Dipper leans against the arm of the throne. He holds his hand over his eyes. “Could I get another drink?"

There’s another in glass his hand as soon as Bill snaps his fingers. Dipper takes a sip.

It's. Nice. It tastes like blueberries.

The one solace in this is Dipper might not have to remember it.

“Well,” Bill says, slow. His grin sharp, and smug as hell. “If you take a look at this hot little piece of mind,” A hand trails over Dipper’s chest. “You can understand why I _mighta_ been a bit interested. Not much, but." He shrugs. "It's worth a look."

Dipper doesn't feel embarrassed. That'd be stupid.

There’s a wolf whistle from somewhere. Bill gives them a thumbs up, beaming. A quick wink, a click of the tongue.

Dipper hates Bill, instead. For downplaying it.

“So! There I was. Making nightmares, checking stuff out, the usual day-to-day stuff - and what stumbles into my view but _this_ guy,” A finger jabs into Dipper’s chest. He can’t see the smile, but he knows it’s horrifically, punchably smug. “Casting a little spell. Doing a little magic. He’s making himself…”

A dramatic pause.

Dipper’s not looking, but he knows Bill’s wiggling his fingers, And that his expression is so suggestive it should be criminal.

“Making... a _companion_.” Bill finishes, audibly leering. “With a _body_.”

There’s a bout of scandalized laughter as the idea hits home, and Dipper takes a long swig of his drink. 

Dipper wanted a familiar. He knew it’d be fake, and false. _Technically_ , it's a companion. But even on his worst, loneliest days, Dipper would _never_ have cast a spell to make the type of ‘companion’ _Bill’s_ implying.

It's malformed, it’s misleading, it’s false and fake and _wrong_. But if you don’t know what actually happened -

“Only like thirty seconds into inhabiting this form,” Bill says, annoyance clear in his voice. “This meatsack figures out someone was  _in_ the body he made,” He starts cackling. “Man, you shoulda _seen_ how he freaked out!”

Dipper punches Bill in the shoulder. It does nothing, but it’s satisfying anyway.

Absolutely everything in Bill’s story is true.

It’s also the biggest pile of bullshit in the universe.

“You wouldn’t _believe_ the crap I had to go through!” Bill rolls his eye, throwing his arms up in irritation. “This body’s great! It should catch any human! But _this_ little mortal figured it out in a snap! And the first thing he does is try to argue that I’m not _exactly_ what he wanted.”

Dipper buries his face in his hands.

“But he didn’t know how to banish me - so hey! A decent mind to play around with? A body to use on him?” Bill beams, chucking Dipper under the chin. “Why not give seduction a shot?” Bill's grin grows in increments, teeth sharp and white. ”That did get pretty fun.”

Bill’s fond of drama. He embellishes. Exaggerates. He goes on. And on, and on and on.

At length.

Dipper hates him, so, so much.

Bill goes on, and on and on. He has every story about their exploits. About their fights, and about his... ‘courtship’. It's loosely described, it's not _technically_  lying. But none of it, in any way, ever, could be considered _human_.

Worst of all. The more Bill talks, the more Dipper learns what he _missed_.

Every taunt. Every prank. Every _single_ time that Dipper managed to retaliate. Bill’s twisted perspective explains everything. All of it.

It  _screamed_ demonic courtship, no _wonder_ things played out like they did.

Now Bill’s playing all of it off as seductive, instead of infuriating, and confusing. Knowing demons, there might be no difference.

The one small blessing is that Dipper doesn’t have to _pretend_ to be embarrassed. When he slumps down in Bill’s lap, face red, it’s natural. It even fits with this massive bunch of bullshit.

Some demon shouts out a comment that Dipper doesn’t catch.

“But that’d ruin the fun! I was halfway there already!” Bill blinks. He makes a gesture Dipper doesn’t recognize. Judging by the reaction, it’s suggestive as hell. “C’mon. Who doesn’t like a _chase_ , am I right?”

Someone in the crowd whistles. Bill clicks his tongue, pointing at them and winking.

Great. Another thing to analyze, and Dipper has no context for it. He sterns himself, and endures.

“Then what do I find out, after I finally finagled this guy into bed-” There’s another bunch of appreciative catcalls, Bill tips his hat. Then he rounds on Dipper. He catches him by the chin, and forces him to look up. “ _This_ saucy little minx was something else, too!’

Bill pauses for dramatic effect, looking over the crowd.

Dipper finishes his drink. Even though he’s tempted to throw it in Bill’s face, he sets it deliberately down on the arm of the throne.

“My cute new mortal was Stanford Pines’ great nephew.” Bill’s grin spreads, slow, over his face. He runs a thumb over Dipper’s chin. “His _favorite_ relative.”

There’s laughter, some applause. Bill makes a bow, tipping his hat again, accepting the recognition.

Dipper knew that this was something of a coup for Bill. Maybe because Bill never had a mortal before. Maybe because he was a new prize that Bill had won. _Definitely_ because it was revenge on Ford.

Or maybe.

Just maybe.

Dipper _wasn’t_ wrong when he realized why Bill might like him. That, under a very specific, demonic perspective. Dipper’s actually kind of-

He shifts in place. His face feels hot.

Actually. Bill wouldn’t be doing this if he thought he couldn’t use Dipper to brag -

“So yeah, I’m laying off Stanford. Real minor price,” Bill says, nonchalant. “No big deal. Any loser can kill a guy, or torture ‘em. You know what’s better than that?” Bill seizes Dipper by the chin, turning him to meet his eye. He smiles, and winks. “Watching the look on that geezer’s face when you told him - right to his face! - that you _chose_ me.”

Dipper swallows. His mouth feels dry.

He _did_ do that.

He was insane.

Dipper should have listened to Ford, he should have done something reasonable and _rational_ , but instead he chose.

This.

A demon. A madman. A stupidly powerful being, whose whole domain is insanity.

Because he’s crazy. Because he likes this. He even likes _Bill_ , insane and impossible as that should be. He’s doing a service to the world, too, which is something that none of the demons here know about.

Bill can’t ever touch reality. Not as long as Dipper’s alive.

 

Dipper signed up for this. Accepted this. Was, slightly, tricked into this, but he still doesn't regret it.

Bill, as a husband, is a lot of things.

‘Infuriating’ is foremost. ‘Intelligent’ is irrefutable, no matter how annoying that is. ‘Entertaining’ is a trait Dipper refuses to admit. ‘Handsome’ is what Bill claims he always was, and Dipper has to argue with. He _made_ the body, and triangles - equilateral or not - aren't 'the best' as Bill says.

“Fuck you, Bill,” Dipper mutters, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“See! There it is! One hundred percent _uninfluenced_ mortal, seduced,” Bill says, with deep satisfaction. “Complete with a downright _gorgeous_ familial betrayal,” The grin changes slightly, as Dipper meets Bill’s eye. It grows wicked. “Least you can do is gimme a smooch.”

Bill smirks, and puckers up.

There’s only one response to that. Dipper taps the back of his middle finger against Bill’s mouth.

“Hey!” Bill straightens up as he feels Dipper’s nail against his lip. “Where’s my kiss?”

“You’re not getting one.”

He might have to sit in Bill’s lap, and concede to Bill in a lot of places, but the last thing Dipper is, or ever _has_ been, is easy. For all that he’s gonna give in, eventually - knowing what he knows now about demons, there’s _zero_ reason to make anything simple.

“Aw, c’mere,” Bill says, cajoling. “I figure I merit a peck at least, sapling.”

Dipper swallows. “I don’t think you merit, uh.” Bill's arms are warm around his waist.

“I merit a lot,” Bill purrs, and leans in.

Dipper holds him back, but barely, a single hand against Bill’s chest. Being in this awful place, accepting the rules that defy all logic. It’s weird and terrible and new.

But this is him. And this is Bill. Bill, who he knows so well. Who he’s dealt with, who he’s married to, who he’s going to be with. Forever.

“Stop complaining about one little smooch, kid. You’re mine!” Bill says, bright. “We’re _hitched_. Why not enjoy it?”

There’s a loud gasp, from the crowd. There’s the sound of someone violently spitting something out, and a couple of deep, mucousy coughs.

Dipper’s forced to stand with Bill as he rises, because his arm is around Bill’s neck.

Bill is rounding on his henchmen. “Okay, I _better_ not have heard someone _ruining_  the moment.” His single eye has turned red. “ _Right_?”

The henchmen stare.  Dipper waves at them with his left hand, palm on full display, smile awkward.

Moments later, the henchmen aren’t quite scrambling for cover, if only because it’s too quick to be called a scramble. Maybe a scuffle. 

Dipper stays still, holding onto Bill, until the semi-rational part of his mind - the one that realizes kissing Bill is _bad_ \- manages to catch up. The demons in the crowd are retreating, because Bill-

Is _Bill_.

Not this again.

“Bill,” Dipper grabs that _stupid_ floating hat off of his _stupid_ husband’s head. “We _get_ it already. You can explode people any time they bug you.” Dipper’s tired of the violence. He’s seen enough in the last couple hours to fill in the next fifty years of his life.

Bill stays very, very still.

He froze the instant Dipper yanked that ridiculous top hat off him. His eye is bright, and glowing red.

He doesn’t look over. His cheek twitches. His arm is lifted up, and his fingers grab at something, then relax, then clench, again and again, as he stares straight ahead.

The henchmen are hiding behind what little cover they can find. They shove each other around in a fight to keep every other henchman on the front line. In the crowd, a few demons peek out of their makeshift cover, then duck down quick.

Dipper takes a moment to turn Bill's hat over, and glance inside it. He immediately wishes he hadn’t. He slaps it brim-first against Bill’s face.

“If you need to murder again, do it later.” Dipper insists. His palm is pressed against Bill's cheek. "Right now it's just _boring_."

Bill huffs out a breath.

He yanks his hat out of Dipper's grip, straightens it out, and casts a dirty look over everyone.

The silence remains.

Bill grumbles. He adjusts, then readjusts his hat, briefly glares at Dipper. Snorts, annoyed.

Then he shrugs, and flops back into his throne with a thump. His arm pulls Dipper along for the ride, yanking him right back into his lap.

“Eh, you gotta point. I’m not a one-act kinda guy.” Bill leans back in his seat. “But...” He taps his cheek, grinning. He clicks his tongue.

Dipper rolls his eyes. He gives into his dumb demon’s dumb request for a peck on the cheek. Small price to pay for not having to watch another round of ‘murder everyone’.

When Dipper looks back up, everyone is staring at him.

He feels suddenly cold.

“Um,” He starts, lifting a hand.

Bill’s still smiling like this is normal, the liar.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Bill interrupts. He pulls Dipper closer, and winks. His tongue flickers out. “Where’s my kiss>”

“I already-”

Bill’s already closing in. He’s warm, and close, and holding tight.

Screw it. This is a party. Shouldn’t it at least be _fun_? Bill’s terrible in a lot of ways, but making out has never been one of them.

Knowing that, Dipper can lean in. Feel Bill’s breath, warm and ready.

Dipper licks his lips.

Someone coughs, loud.

Bill sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Stay here, kid.” And he leaves Dipper blinking in surprise, hands still held up to touch a face that isn’t there, butt thumping to sit alone on Bill’s throne.

“I,” Bill says, teeth gritted behind his smile. “Am _trying_. “His fists clench, he turns on his henchmen, pacing forward. His smile is absolutely humorless. “To _do_ something here.”

“Uh, Bill. It’s. Well.” One of the henchmen starts - the diagonal one, it’s rubbing at the back of its surface.

Bill turns to stare at it, slow. It visibly cringes.

“Spit it out, Kryptos,” Bill says, teeth tight together in an absolutely humorless grin. “You got a problem?”

“Uh, Bill. Are.” Kryptos floats back a few feet. “Heh,” It laughs, nervous. “Are you, uh.” It hesitates. Its smile drops. “You... uh. Feeling ok?”

Bill’s face goes blank. Perfectly, studiously blank.

Dipper’s known Bill for ages, and even he can’t read it.

A beat later, Bill grins. “Yeah, I’m fine!” He lifts a hand., index finger lit with blue flame "Got your proof right here!" 

Kryptos gets blasted across the room by blue fire. It hits the wall with a hideous thump.

Not enough to be obliterated - but enough that it collides with a painful-sounding thud against the far wall. There’s a puff of grey smoke as Krypos coughs, slumping back on the ground.

“I’m doing pretty friggin’ _peachy_ , thanks,” Bill turns to the rest of his henchmen, teeth bared. " _Aren’t I?_ ”

The silence is deafening.

“Great! Now!” Bill turns to Dipper, clapping his hands together, and rubbing them, anticipating. “Where were we?”

Dipper has questions. A lot of questions.

But they're not for right now. Not here.

“It was. Something about kissing.” Dipper clears his throat, and clarifies. “Not that I want that. You suck.”

“And I won’t if you don’t play nice,” Bill says. He throws his arms wide, beaming. “Now c’mere.” He beckons Dipper closer. “Who’s my cute little mortal?”

“I’m-” Dipper sighs. It’s hopeless, he knows how he looks to these beings. He still has to protest. “I’m not _cute_.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Pine Tree. Don’t think I didn’t notice that omission, either,” Bill says, amused. Dipper gets yanked into an embrace with the full enthusiasm of a drunk demonic lord of dreams. “You’re _mine_.”

Bill is always smug. He sounds so satisfied.

Dipper frowns over Bill’s shoulder. With this position, he gets a decent look at the henchmen. He can’t read their expressions - they’re too inhuman - but Pyronica glances at Kryptos, who has risen up painfully slow, brushing ash off itself. They exchange a look.

Dipper doesn’t know a lot about demons. Bill’s his only experience, he hasn’t had much time to learn more.

But every henchman, and every demon, all of them, _everywhere_ , look at Dipper like he’s somehow turned water into wine.

Bill’s nipping at Dipper’s neck. Dipper pushes him away with one hand, which is a struggle. Bill is strong, but he’s also as amused at Dipper fighting him as he is with trying to make a hickey.

Dipper’s inexperienced, true. Ignorant, maybe. Innocent - not so much anymore. No matter how Bill mocks him for all of those things. Dipper _knows_ he’s not stupid.

This is one hundred percent standard Bill behavior, if you add ‘had twelve drinks’ into the equation. Bill hasn’t pulled anything dumb. He’s just been... Bill, with added enthusiasm. And Dipper hasn’t screwed up, or Bill would have called him out on it.

So far, nothing’s gone wrong.

“So, nice mortal, Bill,” Says a henchman. Dipper can’t tell which one started speaking. He's too busy wincing, teeth painful on his neck.  "But what’s the new plan for reality?”

Dipper feels Bill’s teeth dig deeper in his neck, making a soft ‘mmh’, lolling his tongue against the skin as an afterthought.

Oh.

There it is.

“Hey, uh, Bill?” Dipper yanks his husband back by the hair, watching him blink. “Do you.” He hesitates.

“Eh?” Bill blinks at him, tongue flicking over his teeth. The slight red on them is licked away.

“You. I mean. It’s your party, and I’m your date. So.” Dipper clears his throat, and forces a smile. “You…” He can’t believe he’s saying this. “Wanna dance?”

Bill sits up straighter. Stands, in fact, and hauls Dipper up along with him, holding his hands in his own. He grins.

“I know for a _fact_ you can’t dance worth crap, sapling.”

“Yeah, well.” Dipper shrugs. Then smirks. ”Bet you can’t either.”

Bill starts laughing, throwing his head back as he drags Dipper away from the throne. “I’m gonna prove you so wrong that you’re gonna _beg_ for mercy.”

“Bill?” Pyronica starts, her smile gone. “Reality? We’re invading it. Right?” None of the henchmen are looking happy.

“Oh for-” Bill flips all his henchmen off. “Later! Can’t you see I’m _busy_?” He rolls his eye. “Friggin’ honestly.'

Dipper’s grabbed by the hand, and dragged along in Bill’s wake. He’s hauled onto a dancefloor that wasn’t there thirty seconds before. Bill pulls Dipper in, smirking. He makes him rest a hand on his waist, then one on his shoulder.

Somewhere, music starts playing. Bill cups Dipper’s side, pulling him in tight.

“Shall we?” Bill’s smile is as bright as the sun.

Probably because Bill controls everything here, including the lighting. He _would_ make it flattering. He tugs Dipper in close.

They stand together, under a spotlight that shouldn’t be, in a realm that shouldn’t exist. With an audience that would rip both of them to pieces without a second thought, if they thought they could get away with it.

Dipper takes a deep, steadying breath.

He rests one hand on Bill's shoulder, the other on his waist, and looks up at his stupid husband, and says, “I hate you.”

Bill beams. “I know.”

He doesn’t so much _lead_ Dipper in dancing as much as he drags him

Dipper’s feet stumble. He steps on Bill’s feet as much as Bill steps on his. The difference is _Bill’s_ the one doing it on _purpose_.

Bill’s story covered a lot of things, but not everything.

Dipper should have seen this coming.

He suspected it. He’s been building evidence for it, it was something he held close to his chest, eager for the next bit of proof. It’s been an exciting puzzle, he’s been _waiting_ to corner Bill once he had enough clues to take the chance. Building every bit he could, to confront him. That fight was going to be incredible.

Accusing Bill Cipher, master of the mind, of feeling something that no demon should ever, _ever_ feel.

Dipper doesn’t yelp at the sudden twist and jerk. Only blinks up at the ceiling, back parallel to the floor. He stares up at Bill.

Bill waits for a moment, holding Dipper in place. Then he frowns.

“Where’s the protest? I _know_ you got the joke!” Bill asks. “C’mon, a ‘dip’ for a Dipper?” He waits a beat - then beams, realizing. “Oh hey! Someone  _likes_ getting swept off his feet! I shoulda done this ages ago!”

And Bill’s. Not wrong.

Dipper wraps his arms around Bill’s neck. He buries his face in his husband’s shoulder.

Bill grins down at him, proud. His face flushed with both liquor and victory. “I knew you couldn’t resist me, kid.”

“Watch me,” Dipper mumbles.

Dipper was prepared for Bill to screw up. But not like this.

He _couldn’t_ have known, because he’s human. Of course Bill would hear his demands. Reluctant, grumbling the whole time. But he'd  _give in._

Demons don’t work like humans do. They don’t have the same priorities. They don’t give a single fuck about anyone else. They don’t do _anything_ if it’s not for their own reasons.

And there’s Bill. With Dipper.

Being considerate. Making sacrifices.

 _Compromising_.

There’s a whole world that Bill’s been after for ages, now he’s leaving it alone. That's absolute _insanity_ , for a demon, and Bill's henchmen are aware. When Dipper noticed - he  _had_ to interrupt. He’s glad he managed to interrupt in time, before Bill tried to explain it to his henchmen.

There’s zero way Bill would ever consider this, unless.

The best Dipper can do is give Bill some cover, and buy him time to come up with another lie.

Bill leans in. His smile sharp. ”There’s no escape, kid.”

“Yeah.” Dipper looks up at his demon. “I guess there isn’t.”

Over all of the millennia Bill has existed, Dipper’s the only person who’s ever managed this.

Driving  _Bill Cipher_ , of all beings, stark raving _sane_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Interlewd


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